Essays on Philosophical Subjects

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NYPL R£S£AflCH Ue<nARlG9

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T

ESS A^Y S

PHILOSOPHICAL SUBJECTS.

B Y

The late AdAM SMltHi LL.D.

FELLOW OF THE ROYAL SOCIETIES OF LONDON AND
EDINBURGH, &C* &C.

ro WHICH IS PREFIXED,

An account of the LIFE and WRITINGS

AUTHOR,
Bf DUGALD STEfVARTy F.R.S.E.

DUBLIN;

Printsd for Messrs. Wogan, Byrne, J. Moore,

Colbert, Rice, W. Jones, Porter,

and folingsby.

THE NEW YORK

PUBLIC LIBRARY

1596s56

AtTOR, LENOX ANB

TILDE N FOUNDATIONS.

I8f9.

ADVERTISEMENT

ay THE EDITORS.

The- iniiith famehted Aather of
thefe EFays left them iti the handct
of his Ariends to be di^ofed of a«
they thought proper, having^ immen
diately t^orehia 4^ath deilroyed
maoy oth^i; inanufbtipts which he
thought unfit forheing made public.
When thefe were infpe6led, the
greater number of them appeared to
be parts of a plan he once had form-
ed, for giving a conneded hiftory of
the hberal fciences and elegant arts.
It is long fince he found it neceifa-
ry to abandon that plan as far too
extenflve ; and thefe parts of it lay
beiide him negle^ed until his death.
His friends are perfuaded however,

that

ADVERTISEMENT,

that the reader will find in them that
happy[ poiine|9[ipn,' that full -and i^c-.
curate expreflion, and that clear il-
luftratipn which are cpnfpicuous in
the ireft of his works ;" arid that,
though it is difficult to add much
to the gjeeat.fiame he fo ^juiUy ajp-
q^ulred ; by jiis : pthpr wri|ing8, thefe
will , be ,Tsad with fati$£i6tion and

' ; ■'[ JOSEPH black:

JAMES Hut TOl^,

r

. !. ^ . 1

, C Q N T E N T S,

AcCOVifTcf the Life and Writings' of AAzxxx

SEC}:. I, &Qm Mr. Smith's Bixth till the PubUcation

of the Theory of Moral Sentiments ibid.

• II. Of the Theory of Moral Sentiments, attd tfc«

Piffertation on the Or^n of Languages

xzir

•IIL Jtom the fablication of the Theory of.Mo^

ral Seatimentsi till that of the We^th of

Nations - r - ixiv

IV. Of the Inquiry^ into the Nature and ^aufea

of the Wealth of Nations - Ixxzi

V. Conclufion of the Narrative - cviii

Tie JPrincipks which had and direS fhikfaphical
Enquiries; illujirated by the History of
Astronomy r - - - - X

SECT. L Qf the Effed of Unexpedednefs ox of Sur-

prife - - - . ^

n. Of Wonder, or of ^he Iflfefts of Novelty i j

ni. Of the Origin of Philofophy - - 31

^V. The ]^iifiory of Aftrpnomy - - 40

The

Tt CONTENTS.

The Principles which lead and direS Philofopkical
Enquiries "i ittufirated hy the Hi stout of the
Ancient Physics - • Page 131

Th$ Principles which lead a$id direH Shilofifhieal
Enquiries; illujlrated by the Histokt of the
Ancient Logics and Metaphysics 155

Of the Nature of that Imitation which takes place
in what are called the Iihtativb Arts 179

Of the Affinity between MusiCf DANctNo, and
PoBTRT -^ - * - . * 244

€^ the Affinity between eertain English and
Itajlian Vehms # , • 253

Of the EX7B1INA1 Senses - • 267

Of ibe Scnfe of Touching 170

[ OftheScnfeofTafting • - - - 28a

Of the Senfe of Smelling «... 283

bfthcSenfeof Heariog .... 284.

Of theSenft of SeciDg - - •* ^ 994

ACCOUNT

OF THE

LIFE AND fT R IT I N G S

O ¥

ADAM SMITH, LL.D.

Tnta^x TRANS JCT IONS of the ROrJL SOCJETT
of EDINBURGH.

fRnd-hy UlSttvaxt, Jxaxutjn, and March i8, i793.]

ACCOUNT

OF THE

L IF E A N D WRITINGS
o p

ADAM SMITH, LL^D.

SECTION I.

from Mr. Smith's Birth till the Publication of
the Theory of Moral Sentiments.

Adam smith. Author of the Inquiry into
the Nature and Caufes of the Wealth of Nations,
was the fon of Adam Smith, Comptroller of
the Cuftoms at Kirkaldy ^, and of Ma&oa&ex
a Douglas,

* Mr. Smith, the &thery was a native of Aberdeenflure,
tnd in tlie earlier part of hit life pra Aifed at Edinburgh as a
Writer to the Signet. He was afterwards private fecretar/ to
die Earl of Loudoun, (during the time that he held the officer
of Principal Secretary of State for Scotland, and of Keeper of
the Great Seal,} and continued in this £tuation till 1713 or
I7i4> when he i^as appointed Comptroller of the Cuftoms at

iCizkald^.

X ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

Douglas^ d«i^tsf of Mr. D qij ql a ^ of Sira*
thenry. He was the only child of the marriage,
and was bom at Kirkaldy on the 5th of June,
1723, 4 few months after the dtath of hi» father.

His conftitution, during ia&ncy, was infirm and
fickly, and required all the tender folicitude of
ids furvivin^ parent. She y^fw blamed for treat-
ing him with an unlimited indulgence ; but it pro-
duced no unfavourable effedb on his temper or
his difpofitions : — and he enjoyed the rare fatis-
fadioc^of 'being ajbl« to repay her affe^oB, by
every attention that filial gratitude could di£late,
during the long period of fixty years.

An accident which happened to him when he
was about three yeirs old, is df too interefting a
nature to be omitted in the account of fo valuable
a life. He had been carried by his mother to
Strathenry on a vifit to his lincle i/tr. Douglas,
and was one day amufing himfelf alone at the
door of the houfe, when he was ftolen by a party ,
of that fet of vagrants who are known in Scot-
land by the name of tinkers. . Luckily he was 1
foon niiffed by liis uncle, who hearing that fome 1
vagrants had paffed, purfued them, with what af-

filUnce

ltirlal^3r. He y»t9 alfo Clerk to the Courts Mattial and
' Councils of War for Scotland ; an office irlisch lie iield from
1707 till his death. As it is now ffeventy years fince he died,
the accounts I have received of him arfe rtry imperfeA ; but
fibm the pirdcnlats alreadf inentioned,. it 1IM17 be fttCumbd,
tbtt lite IXrtis a man of more than common abilities.

WRITIKG8 OV DR. SMFTR. ^

fiftahce he couki find, dll he overtook them ia
Lcflie wood ; and xvas the happy inftrument of
preferviBg to the world k genius, whieh was dtf^
ftined, not only t<y extend the boundaries of
fcience, but to entighten and reform theGOBinier<^
cial poliey of Barope.

The fchool of Kirkaldy, where Mr. Smith
received the firft rudiments of bis educationy was
then taught by Mr. David Miller, a teacher^
in his day, of confiderable reputation, and whofe
name deferves to be recorded, on account of the
eminent men whom that very ob&ure feminary
produced while under his diredlion. Of this
number were Mr. Oswald of Dunikeir; his
brother^ Dr. John Oswald, aiiierwards Eifiio{i
of Raphoe ; and our late excellent colleague, the
Reverend Dr. John Drysdalk: all af them near-i
ly contemporary with Mr. Smith, and united
with him through life by the clofeft ties of friends
ihip.— One of his fchool-fellows is ftill alive*;
and to his kindne& I am principally indebted fop
the fcanty materials which form the firft part ofi
this narrative.

Among thele companions of his earlieft years,
Mr. Smith foon attraded notice, by his pafEon
for books^ and by the extraordinary powers of
his memory. The weaknefs of his bodily confti-^
tution prevented him from partaking in their more
a 2 aftivo'

* CioaGz D&TSDAKX, Efq- of EirkaM7» htoihefot the
late Dr. DartDALX.

^ . ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

adive amufements ; but he was much beloved hj
them ou account of his temper^ which, though
warm, was to an uncommon degree friendly and
generous. Even then he wa& remarkable for thofe
habits which ronained with him through life, of
fpeaking to himfelf when alone, and oiabfencc in
company.

' From the grammar-fchool of Kif kaldy, he was
fcnt, in 1737, to the Univerfity of Glafgow,
where he remained till 1740, when he went to
Baliol College, Oxford, as an exhibitioner on
Snbll's foundation.

Dr. Magxaine of the Hague, who was a fel-
low-fludent of Mr. Smith's at Glafgow, told me
Ibme years ago, that his favourite puriiiits while
at that Univerfity were Mathematics and Natural
Philofophy ; and I remember to haVe heard my
&ther remind him of a geometrical problem of
confidiprable difficulty, about which he was occu*
pied at the time when their acquaintance com-
menced, and which had been propofed to him as
an exercife by the celebrated Dr. Simpson.

I

Thefe, however, were certainly not the fciences I
in which he was foimed to excel; nor did they
long divert him from purfiiits more congenial to
hi^ mind. What Lord Bacon fays of Plato
may be juftly applied tb him : " Ilium, licet ad
^ rempublicam non acceffiiTet, tamen natura et
^ inclinatione omnino ad res civiles propenfum,

" vires

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. idii

•* vires CO prxcipue intendiffe ; nequc de Philo-
^ fophia Natural! admodum foUicitum efie ; nifi
"* quatenufr ad Philofophi nomen et celebritatem
^ tuendam, et ad majjeftatem qoandam moralibos
'^ et ciyilibus do6lrinis addendam et afpergendam
** fafficeret *•'' The ftudy of haman aature in all
its branches, more particularly of the political
hiftory of mankind, opened a boundlefs field to
Iris curiofity and ambition ; and while itt afforded
fcope to all the various powers of his verfatile and
comprehenfive genius, gratified his ruling pafiion,
of contributing to the happinefs and the improve^-
ment of fociety. To this ftudy, diverfified at his
leifiire hours by the lefs fevere occupations of po-
lite literature, he feems to have devoted himfelf
almoft entirely from the time of his removal to
Oxford ; but he ftill retained, and retained even
in advanced years, a recolle&ion of his early ac**
quifitions, which not only added to the fplendour
of his converfation, but enabled him to exemplify
Ibme of his favourite theories concerning the na-
mral progrefs of the mind in the inveftigation of
truth, by the hiftory of thofe fciences in which
the connexion and fuccefiion of difcoveries may
be traced with the gieateft advantage. If I am
not mi^aken too, the influence of his early tafte^
for the Greek geometry may be remarked in the
elementary cleamefs and fiilnefs, bordering fbme-
times upon prolixity, with which he frequently
dates his political reafonings. — ^The leAures of
the profound and eloquent D&. Hutcheson,
which he had attended previous to his departure

from
* RedurgutiQ Philofophianiiii«

teSr AOCOUNT OF THE LIFE AW)

£rom Glafgow, and of which he alv^ya fpokc in
feeriD^ of )the warmefl: admiration, had, it. may be
Kafomably prefumed, a coafiderable effed ia di*
aeding his taleats to their proper objei£la.

I have not been able to coUed any infarmataon
with refpeA to that part of his youth which was
fpent in £ngland. I have heard him fay^ that
he employed himfelf frequently in the pradicc of
tranflation, (particularly from the French) with a
view to the improvement of his own fiile : and
lie ufed often to exprefs a favourable opinion of
the Btility of fnch exercifes, to all who cultivate
the art of compoTition. It is much to be regret-
ted, that none of his juvenile attempts in this way
^vc been preferved ; as the few fpecimeas which
his writings contain of his fkill as a tr^flator,
are fufficient to ihew the eminence he had attaijn-
ed in a walk of literature, which, in our country,
has ]^ca fo little frequented by men of genius.

It was probably alio at this period of his life,
tSiat he cultivated with the greateft care the ftudy
of languages. The knowledge he pofTeiTed of
thefe, both ancient and modem, was nncommon-
ly exteniive and. accurate; and, in him, was fub^
fervient, not to vain parade o£ taftelefs erudition,
Iwtt to a £umliar acquaintance with every thing
that could illuflrate the inftitutions, the manners^
and the ideas of di&rcnt ages and nations. How
jbtinutely he had once been converfant with the
moK ornamental branchies of learning^ in parti-*

. cular.

yiJirtWGS,Of |». WITH. xy

fiUar^ with tbe w^rks of the Rbrnan,. Greek^
FMUch, aad Italian poets, appeared fu$cieutly
fc<Hp. the hold whiich they kept of his xnemory,
after all the difierent occupations and enquiries ij^
which his maturer faculties had been employed *.
la the Engliih language, the variety of poetical
pafi^ges \vl)ich he was not only accuftomed to re^
^r to Qccafionally, but which he was able to re-
peat with cqrrei^efs^ appeared furprifixig evea
to thofe, whofe attention had never bceu dire^e^
to more importjiiu: acquifition^.

After a refidence at Oxford for feven years, he
returned to Kirkaldy, and lived two years with
his mother; engaged in ftudy, but without any
fixed plan for his future life. He had been origi-
nally deftined for the Church ,of England, and
with that view had been fent to Oxford ; but not
finding the ecclefiaftical profeflion fuitable to his
tafte, he chofe to confult, in this ihftance, his
own inclination, in preference to the wifties of
his friends; and abandoning at once all the
fchemes which their prudence had formed for
him, he refolved to return to his own country,

and

• The uticomnon degree in ^htch Mr. Smith retained
poAeffion, even to tke clofe of his life, of dififereat bramchei of
knowledge which he ha4 long chafed tg culd^^te, has been of-
ten remarked to me bj my learned colleague and friend, Mr.
Daizzl, ProfeiTor of Greek in this Univerfity. — Mr.DALZzL
mentioned particularly the readinefs and corrednefs of Mr.
SmTR's memory on philological fubjeds, and the acutenefi
and OaU ^e dilplaycd in various cenver&tiosft wttii ban on
ibme^ of the mmutui of Greek grammar*

xn ACCOtTNt. OF THE LIFE AND

and to limit his ambition to the uncertain profpeft
of obtaining, in time, fome one of thofe moderate
preferments, to which literary attainments lead
in Scotland.

In the year 1748, he fixed his refidcncc at
Edinburgh, and during thai and the following
years, read leftures on rhetoric and belles Icttrcs,
under the patronage of Lord Kames. About this
time, too, he contrafted a very intimate, friend-
fliip, which continued without interruption till
his death, with Mr. Alexander WedderburjT,'
now Lord Loughborough, and with Mr. WiL-^ ^
LiAM Johnstone, now Mr. Pulteney,

At what particular period his acquaintance with
Mr. David Hume commenced, does not appear
from any information that I have received ; but
frpm fome papers, now in the pofTeflion of Mr.
Hume's nephew, and which he ha3 been fo oblige
ing as to allow me to perufe, their acquaintance
feems to have grown into friendlhip before the
year 1752. It was a friendlhip on both fides
founded on the admiration of genius^ and the love
of fimplicity ; and which forms an interefting
circumflance in the hiftory of each of thefe emi-
nent men, from the ambition which both have
ihewn to record it to poftprity.

In J 75 1, he was elefted Profeffor of I^gic in
the tlniverlity of Glafgow ; and, the year follow-
)ng» he was removed to the {^rofefTorflup of Mo-
ral

WMTINGS OF DR. SMITH- xm

lal Philofophy in the fame Univcrfity, upon the
death of Mr. Thomas Craioie> the immediate
fuccefibr of Dr. HrxcHESoN. In this fituation
he remained thiiteen years ; a period he ufed fre-
quently to look back to, as the moft ufefiil and
happy of his life. It was indeed a fituation in
which he was eminently fitted to excel, and in
wliich the daily labours of his profeflion were
conftantly recalling his attention to his favourite
purfuits, and familiarifing his mind to thofe im-
portant {peculations he wae afterwards to commu-
nicate to the world. In this view, though it af-
Corded, in the mean time, but a very narrow fcene
for his ambition, it was probably inftrumental, in
no inconfiderable degree^ to the future eminence
of his literary charader.

Of Mr. Smithes le^res while a Profeffor at
Glafgow, no part has been preferved, excepting
what he himfelf publifhed in the Theory of Mo»
fal Sentiments and in the Wealth of Nations*
The Society therefore, I am perfuaded, will liften
with pleafure to the following fliort account of
them, for which I am indebted to a gentleman
who was formerly one of Mr. Smith's pupils,
and who continued till his death to be one of hif
moil intimate and valued friends,

" In the Profeflbrlhip of Logic, to which Mr.
Smith was appointed on his fiHl introdu^ion in«
to this Univerfity, he foon faw the neceffity of de-
parting widely from the plan that had been fol-

lowe4

j^m. ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AH»

lowed. by his predc^crflbrs^ and of dire&nxg tht
attentioQ of his pupils to ft^dies of a more iatch
];eftixig and ufef^l nature than the logic ai^d m^
tapfayfics of the fchools. Accordiiigly, aft^r ex*
j^ibjti^g a general view of the powers of th^ mind?
^nd explaining fo much of thp anciedt logic as
was requifite to gratify c^riofity with refped to
^Sk artificial method of reafoning, which had 0iQ£;f
occupied the univerlal attention of the learned^
be dedicated all the reft of his time t<^ the delive-
ry of a fyftcm of rhetoric and belles lettres. The
beft method of explaining and illiaftrating the
yafious powers of the human miiid> the moft ufe-
CqI part of metaphyfics^ arifea from an examina-
^w of the fi^ve^al ways of communicating our
thoughts by fpeech, and from an, attenuon to the
principles of thofe literary compoiitions which
contribute to perfyalioa or entertainment. By
thefc arts, every thing that we perceive or feel,
evpry operation of our minds, is exprefled and
d^Uneated in fuch a manner, that it may be clear^
Jy diftinguiftied and remembered,' There is, at
the fame time, no brianch of literature more fuited
fo youth at th^ir firft entrance upon philoibphy
jkhaathis, which lays hold of their tafte aistfl iheir
|c«ling^

, ** It is much to be regretted, that the manu-
fcript containing Mr. Smith's leiSiures on this
fubjeA was deftroyed be&re his death. The firft
|iart, in point of compe£tion, was highly finiih-
4di and the wfapk difooreied ftrong marks qf

taftc

WJUTiNGs OF jyfL swm^ ^

tafte and original genius. From the p^muflioai^
given to fiudents of taking notes^ many pbferva<-
tions and opinions contained in theft le&uroB
)2ave either b^en detailed in feparate difiienation^
or ingrolTed in general coUedions, which have
£noe been given to the public* But thefe, a^
might b^ expe(£ted, have loft the air of originali-
ty and the diftin^live charader wJbich they rc»-
ireived from their firft author, and are often ob*
feared by that multiplicity of comaio;i-p}aoe maj^
ter in which they are funk and involved.

^^ About a year after his appointment to tliie
Proieflprfliip of Logic, Mr. Smith was elected t^
the chair of Moral Philofophy. Hji^ coijirfe of
jeStxiTcs 00 this fubje6l was divided into four parts*
The firft contai^icd Namral Theology f in which
he considered the proofs of the beiug and attri*
botes of God, and thofe principles of the hmoao
4nind upon which reli^on is founded. The fc-
cond comprehended Ethics ftridly fb called^ an4
coniifted chiefly of the doi^rines which he aft^x>>
wards publiftied in his Theory of Moral Senti-
ments. In the third part, he treated at more
length of that branch of morality which relates
H^jvftice, and which, being fufceptible of prccifc
t^qid accurate rules, is for that reafon capable of a
fyja and particular explanationt

^' Upon this fubjed he followed the plan that

feems to be fuggefted by Montesquieu ; ^dtj^

nmnog t9 irac€ the gradua>l progr^fs Qf jvu^ifprii-

, dence^

» ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

dencc, both public and private, from the rudeft
to the moft refined ages, and to point out the e£-
fefis of thofe arts which contribute to fubfiftence,
and to the accumulation of property, in produc-
ing correfpondent improvements or alterations in
law and government. This important branch
of his labours he alfo intended to fgivc to the
public ; but this intention, which is mentioned
in the conclufion of the Theory of Moral Senti-
ments, he did not live to fulfil.

" In the laft part of his ledures, he examined
thofe political regulations which are founded, not
upon the principle of juJHce^ but that of expe^
diency^ and which are calculated to increafe the
riches, the power, and the profperity of a ftate.
Under this view, he confidered the political in-
ftitutions relating to commerce, to finances, to ec-
clefiaftical and military eftablifhmerits. What he
delivered on thefe fubjefts contained the fubftance
of the work' he afterwards publiftied, under the
title of An Inquiry into the Nature and Caufes of
the Wealth of Nations,

*' There was no fituation in which the abilities
of Mr. Smith appeared to greater advantage than
as a Profeflbr. In delivering his leftures, he
trufted almdft entirely to extemporary elocution.
His manner, though not graceful, was plain and
unafledied ; and as he feemed to be always intc-
Tefl(^d in the fubjedl, he never failed to intcreft
)ii8 hearers. Each difcourfe confifted commonly

of

WRrmrGS of dil sMrnir^ &&

of federal diftin£l propofitions, which he fuccef-
fivclf endeavoured to prove and illuftrate. Thefe
propofidqns, when announced in general terma^
had, from their extent^ not unfrequently . fooie*
thing of the air of a paradox. In his attempts t0
explain them, he often appeared, at firft, not to
be fufficiently pofiefled of the fubjedl, and ipolce
with fome he&tati<m. As he advanced, however,
the matter feemed to crowd upon him, his man*
ner became warm and animated, and his expref-*
fion eafy and fluent. In points . fiifceptible of
controverfy, you could eafily difcem, that he fe?
cretly conceived an oppofition to his opinions^
and that he was led upon this account to fupport
them with greater energy and vehemence. By
the jiilnefs and variety of his illuftrations, th^
fubjeA gradually fwelled in his hands, and ac-.
quired a dimenfion which, without a tedious re«
petition of the fame views, was calculated to feize
the attention of his audience, and to afford them
pleafure, as well as inftru£lion, in following the
lame object, through all the diverfity of Ihades
and afpe£ls in which it was prefented, and after-
wards in tracing it backwards to that original pro-
pofition or general truth, from which this beauti*
ful train of fpeculation had proceeded*.

^' His reputation as a ProfefTor was according-
ly raifed very high, and a multitude of fludenta
from a great diflance reforted to the Univerfity/
merely upon his account. Thofe branches of
fqejacc which he ta«%ht became faihionable at this
\ . . place^

nit AiHxnnrr op the ute ahd

alxd his opiukms Mrerc tfar cfaicf topict 6f dHcut
fibn in dobs and literary ibcieties. Ev^n thd
ImaU peculiarities in Ms prcmunciatioa or manner
of fpeaking, became frequently the objeds of imi^
txtion/'

While Mr. SMifK was tbas diftingoifiiing him^
to]f hfhis zeal and ability as a public teacher,
he was gradually laying the fonndation o£a more
extenfive imputation, by preparing for the preft
llis fyftem of morals. The ferft edition of tl»s
W0rk appttiircd in 1759^ ndder the title of ** The
Theory of Moral Sentiments.'*

Hitherto Mr* Smith had remained tmknown to
tibe wockd as an author ; nor have I heard that be
hod made a trial of bis powers in any anony«
IRDUS publicatio&s, excepting in a periodical work
called TIU Edinburgh R^vieWy which was begun
in the yeai^ 1755, by fome gentlemen of difiin-
guiihed abilities, but which they were prevented,
by other engagements, from carrying further than
the two firft numbers. To this work Mr. Smi th:
contrilmted a review c^ Dr. Johnson-'s Didliona-
ry of the Englifli Language, and al£» a letter, ad^
drefTed to the editors, containing fome general
obfcrvations on the (late of literature in the diffe-
rent countries of Europe. In the former of thefe
pqiers, he points out fome de£rSs in Dr. Joitk-
sok's plan, which he cenfiirea as not fi^ciently
grommatioal. ^^ The diflferent fignificairions of a
*' word (hr obienres) ase indeed coUeAed ; but

" they

WRITrndb OF VSL. SMtTIt »»

^* they are feldom digefted into general clafies^
*' or ranged under the meaning which the word
" principally exprefle^: And fufficient care is
" not taken to diftinguifti the words apparently
«< fyfiooymous.^ To iUiiftmte this critjbci&i. In
copies from J^r. JouiisQV.the articles bvt and
HUMOUR, and oppofes to them the fame articles
digefted agreeably to his own idea. The varions
fignifications of the word but are very nicely
and happily difcriminated.' The other article
does not feem to have been executed with equal
care.

The obferVations on the ftate of learning in
Europe are written with ingenuity and elegance ;
but are chiefly interefting, as they ftiew the atten-
tion which the Author had given to the philofo-
phy and literature of the Continent, at a period
when they were not much ftudied in this ifland.

In the fame volume with the Theory of Moral
Sentiments, Mr. Smith publilhed a Differtation
" on the Origin of Languages, and on the diffe-
** rent Genius of thofe which are original and
** compounded." The remarks I have to offer on
thefe two difcoutfes, I fhall, for the fake of dit
tindn^fs, make the fubjeft of a feparate fedion.

SECTION

xxiv ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

#

SECTION n.

Of the Theory of Moral Sentiments, and the
Diflertation on the Origin of Languages.

jL HE fcicnce of Ethics has been divided by
modern writers into two parts ; the one compre-
hending the. theory of Morals, and the other its
praftical do^rines. The queftions about which
the former is employed, are chiefly the two fol-
lowing: Hrfty By what principle of our confti-
tution are we led to form the notion of moral dif-
tinAions; — whether by that faculty .which per-
ceives the diflin&ion between truth and falfe-
liood; or by a peculiar power of perception^
which is pkafed with one fet of qualities, and
difpleafed Wvih another? Secondly^ What is the
proper objedk of moral approbation; or, in other-
ijvords, What is the common quality or qualities
belonging to. all the diflferent modes of virtue ?
Is it benevolence ; or a rational felf-Iove ; or a
difpofition to z6i fuitably to the di&rent relations
in which we are placed ? Thefe two queftions
feem to exhauft the whole theory of Morals. The
fcope of the one is to afcertain the origin of our
moral ideas ; that of the other, to refer the phe-
nomena of nioral perception to their moft iimple
and general laws.

• i' The

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. xsv

The pradlical doi^rines of morality comprc-
hcnd all thofc rules of condudl which profefs
to point out the proper ends of human purfuit,
and the moil effedual means of attaining them ;
to which we may add all thofe literary compofi-
tions-, whatever be their particular form, which
have for their aim to fortify and animate our good
difp(^tions, by delineations of the beauty, of the
dignity^ or of the utility of virtue.

I fliall not enquire at prcfent into the juftnefs
of this divifion. I Ihall only obferve, that the
words Theory and Pradice are not, in this in-
llance, employed in their ufual acceptations. The
theory of Morals does not bear, for example, the
fame relation to the pradlice of Morals, that the
theory of geometry bears to pradical geometry.
In this laft fcieuce, all the pra&ical rules are
founded on theoretical principles previoufly efta-
bliihed : But in the former fcience, the praflical
rules are obvious to the capacities of all mankind ;
the theoretical principles form one of the moft
difficult fubje6ls of difcuflion that have ever exer-
cifed the ingenuity of metaphyiicians.

In illuftrating the dodrines of praftical morali-
ty, (if we make allowance for fome unfortunate
prejudices produced or encouraged by violent or
oppreflive fyftems of policy) the antients feem to
have availed themfelves of every light furnilhed
by nature to human reafon ; and indeed thofc
writers who> in later times, have treated the fub«

b* jea

xxvt ' ACCOUNT O* THfc LlFt AMD

jca with the grcateft fucccfs, arc they who have
followed moil clofely the footfteps of the Greek
and the Roman philofophers. The theoretical
queftion, too, concerning the eflcnce of virtue, or
the proper ohje3 of moral approbation, was a fa*
vourite topic of difcuflion in the ancient fchools*
The queftion concerning the principle of moral
approbation, though not entirely of modern ori-
gin, has been chiefly agitated fince the writings
of Dr. Cud WORTH, in oppofition to thofe of Mr.
HoBBEs ; and it is this queftion accordingly, (re-
commended, at once, by its novelty and difficul-
ty to the curiofity of fpeculative men) that has
produced moft of the theories which charafterife
and diftinguifh from each other the later fyftems
of moral philofophy.

It was the opinion of Dr. Cudworth, and al-
fo of Dr. Clarke, that moral diftinftions arc
perceived by that power of the mind which dif-
tinguifties truth from falfehood. This fyilcm it
was one great objeft of Dr. Hutchison's philo-
fophy to refute, and, in oppofition to it, to ftiew
that the words Right and Wrong exprefs certain
agreeable and difagreeable qualities in adlions,
which it is not the province of reafon but of feel-
ing to perceive; and to that power df perception,
which renders us fufceptible of plcafure or of pain
from the view of virtue or of vice, he gave the
name of the Moral Senfe. His reafonings upon
this fubjeS are in the main acquiefced in, both
by Mr. Hume and Mn Smith; .but they differ

from

WMTINGS OF DR. SMTTHi itvil

from him in one important partiraUr,— Dr. Hut-
CHESON plainly fuppofing, that the moral fcnfe
is a iimple principle of our conftitution, of which
no account can be given ; whereas the other two
phUofophera have both attempted to analyfe it in-
to other principles more general. Their fyftems,
however, whh refpeft to it are very different
from each other. According to Mr. Humb, all
the qualities which are denominated virtuous, are
ufelul either to ourfelves or to others, and the
pleafure which we derive from the view of them
is the pleafure of utility. Mn Smith, without
rejeding entirely Mr. Hume's do&rine, propofes
another of his own, far more compreheniive ; a
do6irine with which he thinks all the moft cele^
brated theories of morality, invented by his pre-
deceiTors, coincide in p^rt, and from fome par-
tial view of which he apprehends that they have
ail proceeded.

Of this very ingenious and original theory, I
Oiall endeavour to give a ihort abftrad:. To thofe
who are familiarly acquainted with it, as it is fbat^-
cd by its author, I am aware that the attempt may
appear fuperfluous ; but I flatter my felf that it will
not be wholly ufelefs to fuch as haVe not beett
much converfant in thefe shUrsSt difqulfitions;
by prelenting to them the leading principles of
the fyftem in one connefied view, without thofe
interruptions of the attention which neccffarily
arife from the author's various and happy illuftra^
b 9 tioBM

ixviJi ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

tions, and from the many eloquent digrefiions
which animate and adorn his compofition.

The fundamental principle of Mr. Smith's
theory is, that the primary objeds of our moral
perceptions are the aAious of other men ; and
that our moral judgments with refpedl to our own
eondu6l are only applications to ourfelves of de-
cifions which we have already psiilcd on the con-
dud of our neighbour. His work accordingly
confifts of two parts. In the former, he explains
in what manner we learn to judge of the conduct
of our neighbour; in the latter, in what manner,
by applying thefe judgments to ourfelves, we ac-
quire afmfe of duty.

Our moral judgments, both with refped to
our own condud and that of others, include two
diftindl perceptions : frjiy A perception of con-
dud as right or wrong : and, fecondly^ A percep-
tion of the merit or demerit of the agent. To
that quality of condud which moralifts, in gene-
ral, cxprefs by the word Reditude, Mr. Smith
giv^s the name of Propriety; and he begins his
theory with enquiring in what it confifts, and how
we are led to form the idea of it. The leading
principled of his dodrine on this fiibjed are com-
prehended in the following propofitions : *

• i^ It is from our own experience alone, that
we can form any idea of what paffes in the mind
of another perfon on any particular occalion;

and

WRITINGS OF DR SMITH, . f^

tsd the only way in which we can form this
idea, is by fuppofing ourfelves in the fame cirpum-
ftances with him, and conceiving how we fhould
he affeded if we were fo fituated. It is impoflible
for OS, however, to conceive ourfelyes placed in
any fituation, whether agreeable or otherwife,
without feeling an efie£i of the fame kind with
what would be produced by the lituation itfelf }
and of confequence the attention we give at any
nme to the circumftances of our neighbour, muft
iSeSt us fomewhat in the fame manner, although
by no means in the fame degree, as if thefe pir-
{umftances w^i^e Qur owi^^

That this imaginary change of place with other
men, is the real fource of the intereft we take in
their fortunes, Mr. Smith attempts to prove by
various inftances. ^ Wheipi we fee a ftroke aim-
" ed, and juft ready to fall upon the leg or arm of
" another perfon, we namrally Ihrink and draw
*' back our own leg or our own arm ; and when
^' it does fall, we fe^l it in fome meafure, and are
" hurt by it as well ^s \he fuffer^r. The mob,
'' when they ^re gassing at a dancer on the flack
*^ rope, naturally lyrithe and twill and balance
*' their own bodies, as they fee him do, and as
^ they feel that they themfelves muft do if in his
'' fituation." The fame thing takes place, ac
cording to Mr- Smith, in every cafe in which
our attention is turned to the condition of our
neighbour. " Whatever is the paflion which
" arifes i[rom any obje^ in the perfon principally

" concerned.

MX ACCOUNT tft THE LIFE AlfD

*

'^ concerned, an analogous emotion fprings up,
'* at the thought of his fituatipn, iij the brcaft of
'♦ every attentive fpedator. In every paflion of
*^ which the mind of man is fulceptible, the cmo-
'^ tion« of the by-ftander always correfpond ta
'^ what, by bringing the cafe home to himfelf,
*< he imagines ihoukl be the fentiments of the
" fuflferer.'*

To this principle of our nature which Icada us
to enter into the fituations of other men, and ta
partake with them in the paffions which thefe
Situations have a tendency to excite, Mr., Smith
gives the name of fympathy or fellvtv-fetling^
which two words he employs as fynonymous*
Upon fome occaiions, he acknowledges, that
tympathy arifes merely from the view of a certain
emotion in another perfon; but in general it
arifes, not fo much from the vie^** of the emotion,
as from that of the iituation which excites it,

%. A fympathy or fellow-feeling betweeB diffe-
rent perfons is always agreeable to both. When
t am in a fituation that excites any paffion, it is
pleafant to me to know, that the fpe&ators of my
iituation enter with me into all its various circum-
ftances, and are affe6led with them in the fame
manner'as I am myfelf. On the other hand, it is
pleafant to the fpe^ator to obferve this correfpon-t
dence of his emotions with mine.

3. Whesi

c>6

WVTmeS OF DH SMITH. x«d

3^ When tlic ipefbtor of another man's fitua**
tion, upon bringing home to himfelf all its vari-»
OILS circumflances, feels himfelf afTefted in the
fiune manner with the perfon principally con-
cerned, he approves of the afie^ion or paflion of
this perfon ^s juft and proper and fuitable to its
objed. The exceptions which occur to this ob-
ieryation are, according to Mr. Smith, only ap<*
parent *^ A firanger, for example, pafles by us
*^ in the ftreet with all the marks of the deepeft
^^ afflidlion; and we are immediately told, that
** he has juft received the news of the death of
^^ his father. It is impofUble that, in this cafe,
*^ we ihould not approve of hi^ grief; yet it may
^ ofien happen, without any defed of humanity
^ on our party that, fp far from entering into the
^^ violence of his forrow^ we ihould fcarce con^
^* ceiye the firft movement$ of concern upon his
** account. We have learned, however, from exr
*' perience, that fuch a misfortune naturally eXr
** citef fuch a degree of forrow ; and we know,
'^ that if we took time to examine his fituation
*' fvlly and in all its parts, we 0iould, without
^ doubt, mod fincerely fympathize with him. It
^* is upon the confcioufnefs of this conditional
^^ fympathy that pur approbation of his forrow is
" founded, leven in thofe cafes in which that fym-
*^ pathy does not adually take place ; aifd the ge-
** neral rules derived from our preceding expe-
^ rience of what our fentiments would common-
^ ly correfpond with, corre^ upon this, as upon

** many

ffldi Accoxmr of the life and

" many other occafions^ the impropriety of our
*' prefent emotions/'

By the propriety^ therefore, of any afie&ion or
paffion exhibited by another perfon, is to be un-
derftood its fuitablcnefs to the objeft which ex-
cites it. Of this fuitablcnefs I can judge only
from the coincidence of the affedlion with that
which I feel, when I conceive myfelf in the fame;
circumfiances ; and the perception of this coin-
cidence is the foundation of the fentiment of tno^
ral approbation.

4. Although, when we attend to 'the fituation
of another perfon, and conceive ourfelves to be
placed in his circumftances, an emotion of the
fame kind with that which he feels,- naturally
arifes in our own mind, yet this fympathetic emo-
tion bears but a very fmall proportion, in point of
degree, to what is felt by the perfon principally
concerned. In order, therefore, to obtain the
pleafure of mutual fympathy, nature teaches the
fpe^ator to flrive, as much as he can, to raife his
emotion to a level with that which the objed
would really produce ; and, on the other hand,
Ihe teaches the perfon whofe pafiion this objeA
has excited, to bring it down, as much as he can,
to a level with that of the fpedlator.

5. Upon thefe t^'o different efforts are founded
two different fet3 of virmes. Upon the effort of
the fpe£lator to enter into the fituation of the perfon

principally

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. xnii)

principally concerned, and to raife his fympathe-
ric emotions to a level with the emotions of the
a&or, are founded the gentle, the amiable vir-
tues ; the virtues of candid condefcenfion and in->
dulgent humanity. Upon the effort of the perfou
principally concerned to lovtrer his own emotions,
fo as to correfpond as nearly as poflible with
thofe of the fpe&ator, are founded the great, the
awful, and refpe<^able virtues ; the virtues of felf-
denial, of felf-government, of that command of
the paiiions, which fubjeds all the movements of
our nature to what our own dignity and honour^
and the propriety of our conduft, require,

As a farther illuftration of the foregoing doc^
trine, Mr. Smith confiders particularly the de-
grees of the different pafiions which are coniiftent
with propriety, and endeavours to ihcw, that in
every cafe, it is decent or indecent to exprefs a
pailion ftrongly, according as mankind are difpo&
ed, or not dilpofed to fympathize with it. It is
unbecoming, for exi^mple, to exprefs ftrongly any
of thofe paffions which arifc from a certain con^
dition of the body ; becaufe other men, who arc
not in (he fame condition, cannot be expeded to
{ympathize with them. It is unbecoming to cry
put with bodily pain ; becaufe the fympathy felt
by the fpedlator bears no proportion to the acute-
nefs of what is felt by the fufferer. The cafe is
fomewhat fimilar with thofe pafiions which take
their origin from a particular turn or habit of the
imagination.

xxxir ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

In the cafe of the unfocial paflions of hatred
and refentment, the fympathy of the fpeftator is
divided between the perfon who feels the pafiHoi^,
and the perfon who is the obje£l of it. ** Wc
*< are concerned for both, and our fear for what
** the one may fuffer damps our refentment for
** what the other has fuffered," Hence the im-
perfed degree in which wc fympathize with fuch
paflions ; and the propriety, when we arc under
their influence, of moderating their exprefiion. to
a much greater degree than is required in the cafe
of any other emotions^

The reyprfe pf this takes place with refpeft to
all the focial and benevolent afiedions. The
iympathy of the fpe^ator with the perfon who
feels them, coincide^ with his concern for the
perfon who is the objeft of them. It is this re-
doubled fympathy which renders thefe affedions
fo peculiarly becoming and agreeable^

The felfifli emotions of grief and joy, when
they are conceived on account of our own private
good or bad fortune, hold a fort of middle place
' between our focial and our unfocial paflions.
They arc never fo graceful as the one fet, nor fo
odious as the other. Even when exceflive, they
are never f(| difagreeable as e;xccflive refentment ;
becaufe no oppoiite fympathy can ever intereft us
againft them : and when moft fuitable to their ob-
jc&s, they are never fo agreeable as impartial hu-
manity

VilTWQS OF PR. eMTTH. sxx^

iQ4Bity and juft be^evoleiK^ ; l>e(;aufe no doubly
fympathy cau ever intereft us for them,

After thefe general fp^culations conceroiag the
propriety of ^£1 ous, Mr. Smith examines how
&x the jttdginema of ma^kiod coneenxiog it «rc
liaLle to be influenced in particular cafes, by tht
profperou« or the adverfc circumftances of th^
^gent. The fcope of his reafoning on this fij.b^
jeft is dirtily to ftiew, (in oppofition to the com-t
xnon opinion) that whexi there is no envy in the
cafe, our propeniity tp fympathiie with joy i$
umch ftronger than our propenfity to fympathiw
withforrow; and, of confequence^ that it is more
eafy to obtain the approbation of mankind ii^
profpcrity thaa in adverfity. From the fame prin-p
ciple hQ.traces the origin of ambition^ or of the
defire of rank and pre-eminence ; the great ob»
}t£k of which paf&on is, to attain that iltuatioo^
which fets a man moft in. the view of general fym«
pathy and attention, and gives him an eafy cn^f
pire oyer the aiffedlions of others.

Having finifhed the analyfis of our fenfe of pro^
priety and of impropriety, Mr. Smivh proceeds
to coniider pur fenfe of merit and demerit ; which
be thinks has alfo a I'eference, iji the firft in-
ftance» not to our own charaders, but to the cha^
rapiers of our neighbours. In explaining the ori^^
gin of this part of our moral conftitution, he avaiU
liijBafelf of the fame principle of fympathy, into

whick

xxxvl ACCOUNT OP THE LIFE AND

which he rcfolvcs the fentimem of moral appfo^

^>atioii.

The words propriety and improprietyy when ap-
plied to an affed^ion of the mind, are ufed in this
theory (as has be^jn already obfervcd) to exprefs
the fuitablenefs of unfuitablenefs of the affe^ion
to its exciting caufe. The words merit and de^
merit have always a reference (according to Mr.
Smith) to the ^f(J which the affection tends to
produce. When the tendency of an affe^ion is
beneficial, the agent appears to us a proper obje6^
of reward ; when it is hurtful, he appears the prQ-»
per objed of punifhment.

• The principles in our nature which moft di^
redily prompt us to reward and to puniih, arc
gratitude and refentment. To fay of a perfon,
therefore, that he is defcrving of reward or of
puniftiment, is to fay, in other words, that he is
a proper objeft of gratitude or of refentment j
or, which amounts to the fame thing, that he i%
to fonie perfon or pcrfons the objeft of a gratitude
or of a refentment, which every reafonable man
is ready to adopt and fympathize with.

It is however very neccffary to obferve, that
we do not thoroughly fympathizc with the gra-
titude of one man towards another, merely be-
caufe this other has been the caufe of his good for-
tune, unlefs he has been the caufe of it from mo«
tives which we entirely go along with. Our fenfe,

therefore.

MTRITINGS OF DR. SMiTtt. kxxvii

tlierefbre, of the good defert of an adion, is a
compounded fentiment;, made up of an indireft
fympathy with the perfon to whom the aAion is
beneficial, and of a dire& fympathy with the af-
fe&ions'and motives of the agent, — The fame re--
mark applies, mutatis mutandis^ to our own fenfe
of demerit, or of ilUdefert;

From thefe principles, it is infert^d, that the
only afiions which appear to us deferving of re-
ward, are a£lions of a beneficial tendency^ pro-
ceeding from proper motives; the only a6lions
which feem to deferve puniftiment, are aflions of
a hurtful tendency, proceeding from improper
motives. A mere want of beneficepce expofes to
no punifhment ; becaufe the mere want of benefi-
cence tends to do no real pofitive evil. A man^
on the other hand, who is barely innocent, and
contents himfelf with obfcrving ftriftly the laws
of juftice with refpeft to others, can merit only,
that his neighbou/s, in their mm, fliould obferve
religioufly the fame laws with refpeA to him.

Thefe obfervationd lead Mir. Smith to antici-
pate a little the fubjed of the fecond great divi-
fion of his work, by a (hort enquiry into the on*
gin of our fenfe of juftice as applicable to our own
conduB ; and alfo of our fentim^nts of remorfc,
and of good de&rt.

'The origin of our fenfe of juftice, as well as of
all our other moral fentiments. He accounts for

by

xxxyiik ACx;oDfKT oy the un akd

by tneana of the principle of fympathy. Whcrt
I attead only to the feelings of my own broail,
my own bappinefs appears to me of far greater
coiifequence than that of all the world befideiv
But I am confcious^ that in this ezceifiye prefe*
2Sence, other men cannot poflibly fympathize with
me, and that to them I appear only one of the
crowd, in whom they are no more interefted than
ia any other individual. If I wifli, therefore, to
iecure their fympathy and approbation, (which^
according to Mr. Smith, are the objedls of tlie
firongeft defire of my nature) it is neceflary for
Ine to regard my happinefs, not in that light
ia which it appears to myfelf, but in that light in
which it appears to mankind in general. If an
unprovoked injury is offered to me, I know that
fociety will fympathize with my refcntment ; but
If I injure the intcrefis of another, who never in-^
jured me, merely becaufe they ftand in the way
of my own, I perceive evidently, that fociety will
fympathLie with his refentment, and that I Ihall
becouftc the objedl of general indignation*

When, upon ilny bccafion, I am led by the
violeixce of pafiion to overlook thefe coilfidera-
tions^ and, in the cafe of a competition of into*
lefts, to aA according to my dwn feelings, and
not according to thofe of impartial fpe£btors, I
never fail to incur the punifhmeni of remorfe.
When my pafiion is gratified, and I begin to rc-
fle£l coolly on my conduft, I can no longer enter
into the nwlives from which it pfocecded; it ap-
pears

^WRITINGS Oi' DIL SMITH.

pearls as improper to me as to the reft of the world ;
I lament the effe£ts it has produced ; I pity the
unhappy fufferer whom I have injured ; and I feel
myfelf a juft objei^ of indignation to mankind.
** Such^ fays Mn Smith, is the nature of that
*' fentiment which is properly called remorfe*
** It is made up of ftiame from the fenfe of the
•* impropriety of paft conduft ; of grief for the
** effcSks of it ; of pity for thofe who fuffer by it ;
*• and of the dread and terror of punifhment
^ from the confcioufnefs of the juftly provoked
" refentment of all rational creatures^"

The oppofite behatioiir of him who, from pro-
per motives, has performed a generous adion, in-
fpires, in a fimilar manner, the oppoiite fenti-
ment of confciotis merit, or of defenred reward.

The foregoing obfervations contain a general
fummary of Mr. Smith's principles with refpeft
to the origin of our moral fentiments, in fo far at
leaft as they relate to the conduft of others. He
acknowledges, at the fame time, that the fenti-
ments of which we are confcioiis, on particular
occafions, do not always coincide with thefe prin-
ciples ; and that they are frequently modified by
other confiderations very different from the pro*
priety or impropriety of the affediions of the
agent, and alfo from the beneficial or hurtful ten»
dency of thefe affe^lidns. The good or the bad
confequences which accidentally follow from an
adlon^ and wbichj aa they do not depend oa the

agerii

tl ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

agent, ought undoubtbdly, in point of juflice, t©
have no influence on our opinion^ cither of the
propriety or the merit of his condu<^^- fcarcely
ever fail to influence confiderably our judgment
with refpeft to both ; by leading us to form a
good or a bad opinion of the prudence with
which the a£^i6n was performed, and by animate
ing our fenfe of the merit or demerit of his de-
figns; Thefe fa£ls, however, do not furKifh any
objcAions which are peculiarly applicable to Mr.
Smithes theory ; for whatever hypothefis we may
adopt with refped to the origin of our moral per^
ceptions, all men mud acknowledge, that in fo
far as the profperons or the unprofperous event of
an a&ioti depends on fortune or on accident, it
ought neither to increafe nor to diminifh our mo-
ral approbation or difapprobation of the agenti
And accordingly it has, in all ages of the world,
been the complaint of motalifts, that the atdual
fentiments of mankind Ihould fo often be in op-
pofition to this equitable and indifputable ma:cim<<
In examining, therefore, this irregularity of our
moral fentiments, Mr- Smith is to be confider-
cd, not as obviating an objeftion peculiar to his
own fyftem, but as removing a difficulty which
is equally conne&ed with every theory on the
fubjeft which has ever been propofed. So far as
I know, he is the firft philofopher who has been
fully aware of the importance of the difficulty,
and he has indeed treated it with great atwlity
and fuccefs. The explanation which he gives of
it is not warped in the Jeaft by any peculiarity

in

WMTINOS Ot DR. SMTtH, dJ

in his own fchemcj and> I mufl own^ it appears
to me to be the mofl folid and valuable improve-
ment he has made in this branch oF fcience. It
is impoifible to give any abftra£l af it in a Iketch
of this kind ; and therefore 1 muft content my-
felf with remarking, that it confifts of three parts.
The firft explains the caufcs of this irregularity
of fcmiment ; the fccond, the extent of its in-
fluence ; and the third, the important purpofcs
€0 which it is fubfcrvient. His remarks on the
laft of thefe heads are more particularly ingeni-
ous and pleafing ; as their obje^ is to ftiew, in
oppofition to what we ftiould be difpofed at firft
to apprehend, - that when nature implanted the
feeds o£ this irregularity in the human breaft, her
leading intention was to promote the happinefs
and perfeAion of the fpeqies.

The remaining part of Mr. Smith's Theory is
employed in Ihewing, in what manner our fenjt
rf duty comes to be formed, in confequence of
an application to ourfelves of the judgments we
have previoufly paffed on the conduft of others.

In entering upon this enquiry, which is un-
doubtedly the moft important in the work, and
for which the foregoing fpeculations are, accord-
ing to Mr. Smith's Theory, a neccflary prepa-
ration^ he begins with ftating tkefaS concerning
our confcioufncfs of merited praife or blame;
and it mufl be ov/ned, that the firft afped of thft
fad, as he himfelf ftates it, appears not very fa-

c vourablc

slii Accottrr OF the Litts and

vourable to his principles. That the great obje£t
of a wife and virtuous man is not to ^Gt in fuch a
manner as to obtain the a&ual approbation of
thofe around him, but to a^ fo as to render him-
felf the juji and proper objcft of their approba-
tion, and that his fatisfadlion with his own con-
duct depends much more on the confcioufnefs of
deferring this approbation than from that of really
enjoying it, he candidly acknowledges ; but ftill
he infifts, that although this may feem, at firft
view, to intimate the exiftence of fome moral fa-
culty which is not borrowed from without, our
moral fentiments have always fome fecrct refe-
rence, either to what are, or to What, upon a cer-
tain condition, would be, or to what we imagine
ought to be, the fentiments of others ; and that
if it were poflible, that a human creature could
grow up to manhood without any communication
with his own fpecies, he could no more think of
his own chara&er, or of the propriety or demerit
of his own fentiments and condu6l, than of the
beauty or deformity of his own face. There is
indeed a ti^ibunal within the breaft, which is the
fupreme arbiter of all our a6lions, and which
often mortifies us amidft the applaufe, and fup-
ports us under the cenfure of the world ; yet ftill,
he contends, that if we enquire into the origin of
its inftitution, we fhall find, that its jurifdiSion
is, in a great meafure, derived from the authori-
ty of that very tribunal whofe dccifions it fo of-
ten and fo juftly rcverfes.

Whea

WRITINGS OP DR. SMTTH. iliil

Mnhcn wc firft come into the world, we, for
fome time, fondly purfue the impoflible projeft
of gaining the good-will and approbation of every
body. We foon however find, that this univerfal
approbation is miattainablc ; that the moft equita-
ble condn£l muft frequently thwart the interefts
or the inclinations of particular perfons, who will
fcldom have candour enough to enter into the
propriety of our motives, or to fee that this con-
dn<3, how difagreeable foever to them, is perfed-
ly fuitable tp our fituation. In order to defend
ourfclvcs from fuch partial judgments, we foon
learn to fet up in our own minds, a judge bc^
twccn ourfelves and*thofe we live with. We con-
ceive ourfelvcs as ading in the prefence of a per-
fon, who has no particular relation, either to our-
felves, or to thofe whofe interefts are affefted by
our conduft ; and wc ftudy to aft in fuch a man-
ner as to obtain the approbation of this fuppofed
impartial fpeftator. It is only by confulting him
that wc can fee whatever relates to ourfelves in its
proper ftiape and dimenfions.

There are two different oceafions, on which
wc examine our own conduft, and endeavour to
view it in the light in which the impartial fpefta-
tor would view it. Firft, when we are about ta
aft; and, fecondly, after we have afted. In both
cafes, our views are very apt to be partial.

When we are about to aft, the eagcrncfs of pat

Son fcldom allows us to confidcr what wc are do-

c z WS

%li> ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

ing with the candour of an indiflFercnt perfon.
When the aftion is over, and the paflions which
prompted it have fublided, although we can un-
doubtedly enter into the fentiments of the indifTe-
rent IpeSator much more coolly than before, yet
it is fo difagreeable to us to think ill of ourfelves,
that wc often purpofely turn away our view from
thofe circumftances which might render our judg-
ment unfavourable. — ^Hcnce, that felf-deccit which
is the fource of half the diforders of human life.

In order to guard ourfelves againft its delufions^
nature leads us to form infenfibly, by our conti-
nual obfervations upon the condudl of others^
certain general rules concerning what is fit and
proper either to be done or avoided^ Some of
their adions ihock all our natural fentiments;
and when we obferve other people affedled in the
fame manner with ourfelves, we are confirmed in
the belief, that our difappi-obation was juft. Wc
naturally therefore lay it down as a general rule^
that all fuch anions are to be avoided, as tend-
ing to render us odious, contemptible, or puniih-
able; and we endeavour, by habitual reflexion,
to fix this general rule in our minds, in order to
corred the mifreprefentations of felf-love, if we
ihould ever be.called on to adl in fimilar circum*
fiances. The man of furious refentment, if he
were to liften to the dilates of that paffion, would
perhaps regard the death of his enemy as but a
fmall compenfation for a trifling wrong. But his
pbfcrvations on the condu6i of others have taught

him

WRITINGS OP DR. SMITR J^

him how horrible, fuch fanguinary revenges are;
and he has imprefled it on. his, mind as an invaria*
able rule, to abftain from them upon all occafionsJ
This rule prefenres its authority with him, checks
the impietuofity of his paifion, and corrects thic
pardal views whi(;h felf-lovc foggefts; although,
if this had been the firft time in which he conli-
dered foch an a£tion, he would undoubtedly
have determined it to be juft and proper, and
what every impartial fpeiflator would approve of.'
'A regard to fuch general rules of morality confti-
tutcSy according to Mr. Smith, what is properly
called thcfinfe of duty.

I before hinted, that Mr. Smith does not re-
jeA entirely from his fyftem that principle of uti-
Jity, of which the perception in any adion or
phara&er conftitutes, according to Mr. Hume,
the ientiment of moral approbation. That no
qualities of the mind are approved of as virtues,
but fuch as are ufeful and agreeable, either to the
perfon himfelf or to others, he admits to be a
propofition that hqlds univerfally ; . and he alf6
admits, that the fpntiment of approbation with
which we regard virtue, is enlivened by the per-
ception of this utility, or, as he explains the fa£l,
it is enlivened by our fympathy with the happi-
nefs of thofe to whom the utility extends: But
(till he infills, that it is not the view of this utili-
ty which is either the firft or principal fourc^e o£
moral approbation,

To

sM ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AWD

To film up th« whole of his do^rine in a fow
words. " When we approve of any charaiftcr or
" a£lion, the fentimcnt$ which we feci are deriv*
*' ed from four different fources. Firft, yf^
" fympathize with the motives of the agpnt ; fe-
" condly, we enter into the gratitude of thofc
*^ who receive the benefit of his ailions ; thirdly,
*' we obferve that his conduct has been agreeable
^ to the general rules by which thofc two fym-
" pathie^ generally aft; and, laflly, when we
** confider fuch anions as making a part of a fy-
** ftem of behaviour which tends to promote the
*' happinefs either of the individual or of fociety,
** they appear to derive a beauty from this utility,
** not unlike that which we afcribe to any welU
" contrived machine." Thefe different fenti»
ments, he think$, exhauft completely, in every
inftance that can be fuppoftd, the compounded
fentiment of moral approbation. " After dedud*
** ing, fays he, in any one particular cafe, all
*' that muft be acknowledged to proceed from
** fome one or other of thefe four principles, I
" fliould be glad to know what remains ; and I
** fhall freely allow this overplus to be afcribed
** to a moral fenfe, or to any other peculiar &•
" culty, provided any body will afccrtain prc-
^^ cifely what this overplus is."

Mr. Smith's opinion concerning the nature of
virtue, is involved in his theory concerning the
principle of moral approbation. The idea oi vir-
tue, he thinks, always implies the idea of pro-
priety,

r

WRITINGS OF mL SlfTTIi ^tI|

pxic«7^ or of xb^ fuitablenefs of the af&dion to
the objed which excites it ; which fuitablenefs,;
according to him, caa be determined in no other
way than by the fympatby. of impartial fpcftators
t^ith the motives or the agent. But ftill he appreT
^end3> that this defcription of virtue is incom-
plete i for although iu every virtuous a^ion pro*
priety i« an effeptial ixigredient, it is not always
the lole ingredient. Beneficent adions have in
them another quality, by which they appear, not
only to deferve approbation, but recompence,
aind excite a iiiperior degree of efteem, ariiing
from a doid>l^ fympatby with the motives of the
agent; and the gratityde pf thofe who are the ob-
jeSts of his afiediiont In this refped, beneficence
appieara to him to be diilinguiihed from the infe-
rior virtues of prudence, vigilance^ circumfpec-
paa, temperance, confbmcy, firmnefs, which are
plways regarded with approbation, but which
confer no merit. This diftindion, he appre-
hends, has not been fufficiently attended to by
moralifts ; the principles of fome afibrding no ex-
planation of the approbation we beftow on the in-
ferior virtues*; fOid thofe of others accounting as
impcrfeftly for the peculiar excellency which the
fupreme virpip of beneficence is acknowledged tq
poDfcfe,*

Such arc the outlines of Mr. Smith's Theory
of Moral Sentiments; a work which, whatever
opinion we may entertain o£ the juilnefs of its
conclufions> m^ft be allowed by all to be a fingu-

lar

xlviu ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

lar effort of invenrion, ' ingenuity, and fubtilty.
For my own part I muft confcFs, that it does not
coincide with my notions concerning the foun-
dation of Morals; but I am eonvinced, at the
fame time, that it contains a large mixture of
important truth, and that, although the autlier
has fometimes been mifled by too great a defirc
of generalizing his principles, he has had the
merit of direfting the' attention of philofopher^
to a view of htiman nature which had formerly, in
a great meafure efcapcd their notice. Of the
great proportion of juft and found reafoning which
the Theory involves, its ftriking plaufibility is a
fufficient proof; for as the author himfclf has re-
marked, no fyftem in liiorals can well gain our
aflent, if it does not border, in fome refpcft»,
upon the truth. " A fyftem of natural philofo-
** phy, (he obferves) may appear very plaufible,
*^ and be for a long time very generally received
** in the world, and yet have no foundation in
** nature ; but the author who ftiould affign as the
" caufe of any natural fentiment, fome principle
** whic*h neither had any connexion with it, nor
*' refembled any other principle which had fome
** connexion, would appear abfurd and ridicu-
^ lous to the moft injudicious and unexperienced
** reader." The merit, however, of Mr, St^ith's
performance does not reft here. No work, un-
doubtedly; can be mentioned, ancient or modem,
which exhibits fo complete a view of thofe fa6te
with refpeft to oiir moral perceptions, which it Js
one great obje£t of this branch of fcience to refer

tQ

wntrmcs o» dr. smith. xKx

to their geneiral laws ; and upon this account, it
well deferves the careful ftudy of all whofe tafte
leads them to pro'fecute fimilar enquiries. Thefe
&As are indeed frequently exprefled in a lan-
guage which involves the author's peculiar theo-
iries: But they are always prefented in the moft
happy and heauttful lights; and it is eafy for an
attentive reader, by ftripping them of hypotheti-
cal terms, to ftate them to himfelf with that logi-
cal precifion, which, in fuch very difHcnlt difqni*
fitions, can alone condu^ i» with certainly to the
truth.

It is proper to obferve farther, that with the
theoretical dodrines of the book, there are every
yffhcte interwoven, with lingular tafte and ad<lrefs,
the porefl and moft elevated maxims concerning
the practical condud of life ; and that it abounds
throughout with interefting and inftrudive deli-
neations of charaders and manners. A confider-
able part of it too is employed in collateral enqui?
ries, which, upon every hypothefis that can be
formed concerning the -foundation of morals, are
of equal importance. Of this kind is the fpecu*
lation formerly mendoned, with refpeft to the in-
.ftience of fortune on oqr moral fentiments^ and
another fpeculation, no l^fs valuable, with refpe^
to the influence of cufiom and faihion on the fame
part of our conftitution.

The ftyle in which Mr. Smith has conveyed
the fimdaoicutal principles on which his Theory

fefts,

1 ACCOTTNT Of THB Ufg A3m

xefls, does not jfecm iso loe to be fo pc^rle£tljf ft|itr«
cd to the fubje^ asi tbat wbkb be ^mplpy^ pa
iDoft other occafioaeu In comosiumeatit^ idca#
which are extremely abftrad and fiibtil^ iuid
aboiE which it is hardly pofiible to reafoQ corr^-
ly, without the fcrupnloua ufe of appropriated
terma^ he fometimes pi^fente to u« 9 cboice of
words, by no meanQ ftri&ly fynpnymoua, fo as
to divert the attention from a ptepifc and ilfiady
eonceptiooEt of bis propofition ; and 9, fitnilar ef-
ft&is, in otlier inAaoces, produced by that di-
verfity of forms which, in the courfe of hia cot
pious and feducing compofition, the fame trutb
infeuiibly afliimes. When thi^ folded pf his
work leads him to addrefs the imagination and
the heart; the variety and feHcity of bif illuftra*
tions ; the richnefs and fluency of hi$ eloquence;
and the fkiil with which he wins the attentioii
and commands the paflions of his readers, letvf
him, among our £nglifli moraliftsj without l|
rivaK

The Diflfertation on the Origin of Languages^
which now forms a part of the fame volume with
the Theory of Moral Sentiments, was, I believe,
firft annexed to the fccond edition of that work.
It is an cffay of great ingenuity, and on which
the author faimfelf fet a high value ; but, in a ge-
neral view of fais publications^ it deferves our

attention

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. ly

itteadon Ui&, on account of the opinions it con-*
tains^ than as a fpecimcn of a particjilar fort of
enquiry, whicbj fo far as I know, is entirely of
inodern origin, and which feems, in a peculiar
degree, to have interefted Mr. Smith's curioii?
ty. Something very fimilar to jt may be traced
in all his different works, whether moral, politi-
caiL^ or literary ; and oin all (hefe fubje&s he haf
^exemplified it with jthp happieil iuccefs.

When, in fuch a period of fociety as (hat i^
which we live, we compare our intelleftual aCf
qmremcnts, our opinions, manners, and inftitu*.
tion^ with thofe which prevail among rude tribes^
it cannot fail to occur to us as an ipterefting quel^
tion, by what gradual fieps the tranfiuion has beea
made from the firil iimple efforts of uncultivated
xiature, to a flate of things fo wonderfully arti&i
cial and complicated. Whence has arifen that
fyflematical beauty which we admire in tjae flruc<*
ture of a cultivated lai^^age ; that analogy whic]|
runs through the oaixture of languages fpoken bj
the mod remote and unconneded nations; and
thofe peculiarities by which they are all diftin*
gaiihed from each other ? Whence the origin of
the diiferent fcicnces and of the different arts;
and by what chain has the mind been led from
their firft rudiment^ to their laft and mofl refined
improvements ? Whence the aftonilhing fabric of
the political union; the fimdamental principles
which are common to all governments; and the
iliSerent forms which civilized fociety hus aiTum-

Ill ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

cd in different ages of the world ? On moft of
thefe fubjedis very little information is to be cx-
peded from hiftory ; for long before that ftage of
fociety when men begin to think of recording
theit tranfadions, many of the moft important
fleps of their pn^nefs have been made. A few
infulated fads may perhaps be coUeded from the
cafual obfervations of travellers, who have view-
ed the arrangements of rude nations ; but nothing,
it is evident, can be obtained in this way, which
approaches to a regular and connedted detail of
Jiuman improvement^

In this want of dired evidence, wc are under
a necei&ty of fupplying the place of fad by con*
je6bire ; and when we are unable to afcertaia
how men have adually conduded themfelves up-*
on particular occafions, of coniidering in what
manner they are likely to have proceeded, from
the principles of their nature, and the circum-
ftances of their external fituation. In fuch en-
quiries, the detached fads which travels and
voyages afford us, may frequently ferve as land-
marks to our fpeculations ; and fometimes our
conclufions a priori y may tendlto confirm the ere-,
dibility of fads, which, on d fuperficial view,
appeared to b^ doubtful or incredible*

Nor are fuch theoretical views of human affairs
fubfervient merely to the gratification of curiofity.
In examining the hiftory of mankind, as v/ell as
ia ^xaminipg the phenomena of the material

world,

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH- . lill

world, when we cannot trace the proccfs by
which an event has been produced, it is often of
importance to be able to ftxew how it may have
heen producied by natural caufes. Thu$, in the
inftance which has fuggefied tbefe remarks, aU
though it is impofiiblc to d^ermine with certain-
ty what the fteps were by which any particular
language wisis formed, yet if we can ibew, from
tbe known prixiciples of humane nature, how all
Its various parts might gradually have arifen, the
mind is not only to a certain degree fatisfied, but
a check is given to that indolent philofophy, which
refers to a miracle, whatever appearances, both
in the natural and moral worlds, it is unable to
explain.

To this fpecies of philofophical inveftigation,
mrhich has no appropriated name in our language,
I Ihall take the liberty of giving the title of Theo-
reticalox Conjeaural Hijiory ; an expreffion which
coincides pretty nearly in its meaniiig with that
of Natural Hiftoryy as cmjJoyed by Mr. Hume *,
and with what fome French writers have called
Hiftoire Raifonnie.

The mathematical fciences, both pure and mix-
ed, afford, in many of their branches, very fa-
▼ourable fubjefts for theoretical hiftory; and a
ytry competent judge> the late M. d'ALEMBERT,
lias recommended this arrangement of their ele-

aatentary

^ Ste Uft Natural Hiffoiy of Religibxiii

8^ ACCOTTNT Ot THE tiFB AND

mentary principles, which is founded on the na-
tural fucceffion of inventions and difcoveries, a«
the beft adapted for intcrefting the curiofity and
cxercifing the genius of ftiidents. The fame au-
thor points out as a model a paffage in Montu-
cla's Hiftory of Mathematics, where an attempt
is made to exhibit the gradual progrefs of philofo-
phical fpeculation, from the firft conclufions fug-
gefted by a general furvey of the heavens, to the
doArines of Copernicus. It is fomewhat re-
markable, that a theoretical hiftory of this very
fcience (in which we have, perhaps, a better op-
portunity than in any other inftance whatever^
df comparing thfe natural advances of the mind
with the adlual fiicceflion of hypothetical fyftcms;
was one of Mr. Smith's earlieft compofitions,
and is one of the very fmall number of his ma-
nufcripts which he did not deftroy before his
death.

I already hinted, that enquiries perfe^ly ana-
lagous to thefe may be applied to the modes of
government, and to the municipal inftitutions
which have obtained among different nations. It
is but lately, however, that thefe important fub-
je&s have been confidercd in this point of view ;
the greater part of politicians before the time of
MoNTESC^jJiEU, having contented themfelves with
an hiftorical ftatement of fafts, and with a vague
refcrcTiCe of laws to the wifdom of particular le-
giflators, or to accidental circumftances, which it
is now impoffible to afcertain. Montesgluieu,

on

WRtTINOS OF DR. SMITH- 4v

cm tlic contrary, confidered laws as originating
chiefly from the circumfiances of focicty ; and at-
tempted to account, from tlie changes in the con^
dition of mankind, which take place in the diffe-
rent ftages of theiT progrcfs, for the correfpond-
ing alterations which their inftitutions undergo.
It is thns, that in his occasional elucidations of
the Roman jurifpnidence, inftead of bewildering
"himfelf amoug the erudition of fcholiafts and of
antiquaries, we frequently find him borrowing
his lights from the moft remote and unconnedted
quarters of the globe, and comfoinkig Iht cafual
obfervations of illiterate travellers and navigators,
into a philofophic'al commentary on the hiftory of
law and of manners.

The advances made in this line of enquiry
fince MoNTESQU lEu's time have been great. Lord
Kam£S, in his Hiftorical Law Trafts, has given
fome excellent fpecimens of it, particularly in his
Efiays on the Hiftory of Property and of Crimi-
nal Law, and many ingenious fpeculations of the
fame kind occur in the worJcs of Mr. Millar.

In Mr. Smithes writings, whatever be the na-
ture of his fubjeft, he Icldom mifles an opportu-
nity of indulging his curiofity, in tracing from
the principles of human namre, or from the cir-
cumftances of fociety, the origin of the opinions
and the inftitutions which he defcribes. I for-
merly mentioned a fragment concerning the Hit
tory of Aftronomy which Ire has left for publican

tion ;

In ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE ANO

tion; and I have heard hUn fay more than once^
that he had projefted, in the earlier part of his
life, a hiftory of the other faiences on the fame
plan. In his Wealth of Nations, various difqui-
iitions are introduced which have a like objedl in.
view, particularly the theoretical delineation he
has given of the natural progrefs of opulence in
a country; and his inveftigation of the caufes
which have inverted this order in the different
countries of modern Europe. His le&ures on
jurifprudence feem, from the account of them for-
merly given, to have abounded in fuch enquiries.

I am informed by the fame gentleman who fa*
voured me with the account of Mr. Smith's lec-
tures at Glafgow, that he had heard him fome-
times hint an intention of writing a treatile upon
the Greek and Roman Republics. ** And after
^^ all that has been publiihed on that fubjed, I
^' am convinced (fays he) that the obfervations of
*' Mr. Smith would have fi^efted many new
** and important views concerning the internal
*'' and domeftic circumftances of thofe nations^
** which would have difplayed their feveral fyf-
*' tems of policy, in a, light much lefs artificial
*^ than that in which they have hitherto ap-
" peared."

The fame turn of thinking was frequently, in
his focial hours, applied to more familiar fub-
jeSs; and the fanciful theories which, without
the leaft afiedation of ingenuity, he was continu-

ally

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. Ivli

ally darting upon all the common topics of dif-
courfe^ gave to his converfation a novelty and va-
riety that were quite inexhauftible. Hence too
the minutenefs and accuracy of his knowledge on
many trifling articles which, in the courfe of his
fpeculations, he had been led to confider from
feme new and intcrefting point of view ; and of
iwhich his lively and circumftantial defcriptions
amufed his friends the more, that he feemed to
be habitually inattentive, in fo remarkable a de-
gree, to what was palling around him.

I have been led into thefe remarks by tht Dif-
fcrtation on the Formation of Languages, which
^exhibits a very beautiful fpecimen of theoretical
bifiory, applied to a fubje£l equally curious and
difficult. The analogy between the train of
thinking from which it has taken its rife, and
that which has fuggefted a variety of his other
difqulfitions, will, I hope, be a fufficient apolo-
gy for the length of this digl-eflion ; more parti-
cularly, as it will enable me to Amplify the ac-
count which I am to give afterwards, of his en*
quiries concerning political oeconomy.

1 fhall only obferve farther on this head, that
when different theoretical hiftories are propofed
by different writers, of the progrefs of the human
mind in any one line of exertion, thefe theories
are not always to be underftood as {landing in
oppofition to each other. If the progrefs deli-*
neated in all of them be plaufible, it is poflible at

d ' leaft,

IviS ACCOUNT OF THE LIPE AlrfD

Icaft, that they may all have been realized ; for
human affairs never exhibit, in any tviro inftances;
a perfeft uniformity. But whether they have
been realized or no, is often a queftion of little
confequence. In moft cafes, it is of more impor-
tance to ^fcertain the progrefs that is moft fimple,
than the progrefs that is moft agreeable to faft ;
for, paradoxical as the proportion may appear,
it is certainly true, that the real progrefs is not
always the moft natural. It may have been deter-
mined by particular accidents, which arc not
likely again to occur, and which cannot be con-
fidered as forming any part of that general pro-
vifion which nature has made fot the improve-
tnent 6f the race.

In order to make fome amends for the length
(I am afraid I may add for the tedioufnefs) of this
fe£^ion, I fliall fut)join to it an original letter of
Mr. Hume's, addrefted to Mr. Smith, foon af-
ter the publication of his Theory. It is ftrongly
marked With that eafy and afTefiionate pleafantry
which diftinguifhed Mr. Hume's epiftolary cor-
refpondence, and is entitled to a place in this
Memoir, on account of its connexion with an
important event of Mn Smith's life, which foon
.after removed him into a new fccne, and in-
fluenced, to a confiderable degree, the fubfequent

courfc

WRITINOSXMfDR. SMITH. 11^

cdxirfe pf his ftudies. The letter is datc^ from
Lonclon> 12th April 1759^

*^ I give jovL thanks for the agreeable prefent
of your Theory. Wepperbukn and I made
prefents of our copied to fuch of our acquaintanc-
es as we thought good judges, and proper to
fpread the reputation of the book. I fent^one to
the Duke of Argyle, to Lord Lytt.lbton,
Horace Walpole, Soame Jejnnyns, and
BuRKE) an Irifh gentleman, who wrote lately a
very pretty treatife on the Sublime. Millar.
deilred my permiiTion ta feqji one in your name
to Dr. Warrurton. I have delayed writing to
you till I could tell you fom^thing of the fucccfs
of the book, and could prognofticate with fome
probability, whether it ftiould be finally damned
to oblivion, or fliould be regiftcred in the temple
of immortality* Though it has bee|^ publiftied
only a few weeks, I think ,thfire appear already
fuch flrong fymptqms, that I can almoft venture

to foretel ita fate. It is \n ihort this r—

But I have been interrupted in my letter by .a
foolifh impertinent vifit of one wbp has lately
come from Scotland. He tells me that the Unj-
Ycrfity of Glafgow intend to declare Rouet^s of-
fice vacant, upon his going abroad with Lor4
Hope. I queftion not but you will have oiir
friend Ferguson in your eye, in cafe another
projeft for procuring him a place in the Univerfi-
ly of Edinburgh fhould fail. Ferguson has
very much poliftied and improved his treatife on
d 2; Refine*

& ACCOUNT Ot* THE LIFE AN©

Refinement^, and with fome amendments it will
make an admirable book, and difcovers an ele^
gant and a fingular genius. The Epigoniad, I
hope, will do ; but it is fomewhat up-hill work,
As I doubt not but you confult the revieWs fome^
times at prefent, you will fee in the Critical Rci
viow a letter upon that poem ; and I defire you to
employ your conjefhires in finding out the author.
Let me fee a fample of your {kill in knowing
hands by your guefling at the perfon. I am afraid
of Lord Kames's Law Trades. A man might as
well think of making a fine fauce by a mixture oi
wormwood and aloes, as an agreeable compofi-
tion by joining metaphyiics and Scotch law<
However, the book, I believe, has merit ; though
few people will take the pains of diving into it,
But, to return to your book, and its fuccefs in
this town, I muft tell yo u ^ ■■* ^ A plague of
interruptions! I ordered myfelf to be denied;
and yet here is one that has broke in upon me
again. He is a man of letters, and we have had
a good deal of literary converfation. You told
me that you was curious of literary anecdotes,
and therefore I fhall inform you of a few that have
' come to my knowledge. I believe I have men-
tioned to you already Helvetius's book dt
FEfprit. It is worth your reading, not for its
philofophy, which I do not highly value, but for
its agreeable compofition^ I had a letter from

him

* Pabliflied afterwards under the title of *' Aa Effaj oo
the Hiftory of Civil Societ//'

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH- W

him a few days ago, wherein he tells me that my
aame was much oftener in the manufcript, but
that the Cenfor of books at Paris obliged him to
ftrikc it out. Voltaire has lately publilhed a
fmall work called Candidcy ou POptimifme. I

Ihall give you a detail of it—' ^But what is all

this to my book ? fay you.— My dear Mr. Smith,
have patience : Compofc ypurfelf to tranquillity :
Shew yourfelf a philofopher ip praftice as well
as profeffion : Think on the emptinefs, and ralh-
nefs, and futility of the common judgments of
men ; How little they ar^ Regulated by reafon in
any fubjcil, much more in philofophical fubje^s,
which fo far exceed (he (:omprehenfion of the
vulgar.

Non Ji quid turbida Roma

Bievety accedas : examenve improbum in ilh
Caftiges trutina ; nee te quajiveris extra.

A wife man's kingdom is his own breafl ; or^ if
he ever looks farther, it will oftly be to the judg-*
ment of a feleft few, who are free from preju-
dices, and capable of <:^xamining his work. No^
thing indeed can be a ftronger prefumption of
falfehood than the approbation of the multitude ;
and Phocion, you know, always fufpeded him^r
felf of fome blunder, whea he was attended with
the applaufes of the populace.

" Suppofing, therefore, that you have duly pre^
pared yourfelf for the worft of all thefe reflec-

tionsj

lili ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

tioris, I proceed to tell you the melancholy news,
that your book has been very unfortunate ; for
the public fecm difpofed to applaud it extremely.
It was looked for by the foolifh people with feme
impatience ; and tne mob of literati are begin-
ning already to be very loud in its praifes. Three
Bifhops called yefterday at Millar's (hop in
order to buy copies, and to afk queftions about
the author. The Bifliop of Peterborough fai(J
he had paflcd the evening in a company where
he heard it extolled above all books in the world.
The Duke of Argyle is more decifive than lie
ufes to be in its favour^ I fuppofc he cither con-
fiders it as an exotic, or thinks the author will be
ferviceable to him in the Glafgow elcftions. —
Lord Lyttleton fays, that Robertson and
Smith and Bower are the glories of En^glifti li-
terature. Oswald protefts he does not know
whether he has reaped more inftru&ion or enter-
tainment from it. But you may eafily judge what
reliance can be jjut on his judgment, who has been
engaged all his life in public bufinefs, and who
never fc?s any faults in his friends. Millar
exults and brags that two thirds of the edition are
alreiady fold, and that he is now fure ojT fuccefs.
You fee what a fon of the earth that is, to value
books only by the profit they bring him. In that
view, I believe, it may prove a very good book.

" Charles Townsend, who paffes for the
clevercft fellow in England, is fo taken with the
P^rfprniaiice, that* he faid to Oswalp he would

put

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. UHi

put the Duke ofBuccLEUOH under the author's
care, and would make it worth his while to ac-
cept of that charge. As foon as I heard this^ I
called on him twice, with a view of talking with
Ynux about the matter, and of convincing him of
the propriety of fendii^ that young Nobleman to
Glafgow : For I could not hope, that he could
offer you any terms which would tempt you to
renounce your Pf ofcfforfhip : But I miffed him.
Mr, TowNSEND pafles for being a little uncer-
tain in his refolutions ; fo perhaps you need not
build much on this fall^,

'* In recompence for fo many mortifying thii^s,
which nothing but truth could havjc extorted from
me, and which I could eaiily have multiplied to
a greater number, I doubt not but you arc fo good
a Chriflian a^ to return good for evil ; and to flat-
ter my vanity by telling me, that all the godly in
Scotland abufe me for my account of John Knox
and the Reformation. I fuppofe you are glad to
fee my paper end, an4 that I ;»m obliged to con-
elude with

Your Humble Servant,

David Hume.'*

&ECTIp$T

Ixiv ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

SECTION IIL

From the Publication of The Theory of Moral
Sentiments, tiU that of The Weahh of Nations.

After the publication of the Theory of Mo-
ral Sentiments, Mr. Smith remained four years
at Glafgow, difcharging his official duties with
unabated vigour, and with increafing reputation.
During that time, the plan of his le&ures under-
went a confiderable change. His ethical do&rines,
of which he had now publiftied fo valuable a part*
occupied a much fmaller portion of the courfc
than formerly; and accordingly, his attentioxi
was naturally direfted to a more complete illuf-
tration of the principles of jurifprudence ^xxd of
political CBconomy^

To this lafl fubjeft, his thoughts appear to have
been occafionally turned from a very early period
of life. It is probable, that the uninterrupted
friendihip he had always maintained with his old
companion Mr. Oswalp had fome tendency to
encourage him in prof<?cuting this branch of his
iludies ; and the publicatioa of Mr, Hvme's po-*
litical difcourfes in the year 1752, could not fail
to confirm him in thofe liberal views of commer-
cial policy which had already opened to him in

the

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH- i^vU

the courfe of his own enquiries. His long ri^ady
dence in one of the moil enlightened mercantir^^f,
towns in this ifland, and the habits of intimacy^f
m which he lived with the moft refpeftable of
its inhabitants, afforded him an opportunity of
deriving what commercial information he flood
in need of, from the beft fouyccs ; and it is a cir-
eumftance no lefs honourable to their liberality
than to his talents, that notwithftanding the re*-
lufiance fo common among men of buiinefs to
liften to the concluiions of mere fpeculation, and
the direft oppofition of hi$ fading principles to
all the old maxims of trade, he was able, before
he quitted his ^tuation in the Vniverfity, to Tzs^lf.
fome very eminent merchants in the number of
bis profelytcs *,

Among the ftudents who attended his ledures,
and whofe minds were not previoufly warped by
prejudice, the progrefs of his opinions, it may
be reafonably fuppofed, was much more rapid.
It was this clafs of his friends accordingly that
firft adopted his fyflem with eagerAefs, a,nd dif-
•&fed a knowledge of its fiindamental principles
over this part of the kingdom*

Towards the end of 1763, Mr, Smith receiv-
ed an invitation from Mr, Ch aisles. To wnsend
to accompany the Puke of ^uccleugh on his

travels j

* I meation this fad on the refpeftable authoritj of Jams$
Ritchie, £fq. ^f Glafgow.

^** AccoirKtr Of the life and

}vtls ; and the liberal terms in which the pro.
pofal Was made to him, added to the ftrong de-
^firc he had felt of vifiting the Continent of Eu-
rope, induced him to reiign his office at Glafgow.
With the connexion which he was led to form in
tonfequence of this change in his iituation, he
had reafon to be fatisfied in an uncommon degree,
ind he always fpokc of it with pleafure and gra-
titude. To the public, it was not perhaps a
change equally fbrtupate ; as it interrupted that
ftudious leifure for which nature feems to have de-
fined him, and in which alone he could have
lioped to accomplifti thofe literary projefts which
tad flattered the ambition of his youthful genius,

The alteratiop, however, which, from this pc-?
riod, took place in his habits, was not without
its advantages. He had hitherto lived chiefly
within the walls of an Univerfity ; and although
to a mind like his, the obfervation pf human na-
ture on the fmallefl: fcale is fufficicnt to convey a
tolerably juft conception of what paiTes on the
great theatre of the world, yet it is not to be
doubted, that the variety of fcenes through which
he afterwards pafled, mufl: have enriched his
mind with many new ideas, and correfted many
of thofe mifapprehenfions of life and manners
which the beft defcriptions of them can fcarcely
fail to convey. — But whatever were the lights that
his travels afforded to him as a ftudent of human
mature, they were probably ufefiil in a ftill great-
er degree, in enabling him to perfed that fyftem

of

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. kVii

of political oeconomy, of which he had already
delivered the principles in his lefturcs at Glaf-
gow, and which it was now the leading objeft of
his ftudics to prepare for the pabUc. The coin-
cidence between fome of thefe principles and the
diftinguilhing tenets of the French oecononiifts,
V^ho were at that very time in the height of their
reputation, and the intimacy in which he lived
with fome of the leaders of that fedl, could not
fail to afiift him in methodising and digefling his
fpeculations ; while the valuable collection of
fafts, accumulated by the zealous induftry of their
numerous adherents, fiirnifhed him with ample
materials for illuflrating and qonfirming his theo^
retical conclufions.

After leaving Glafgow, Mr. Smith joined the
Duke of BuccLEUGH at London early in the year
1764, and fet out with him for the Continent in
the month of March following. At Dover they
toet Sir James Macdonalp, who accompanied
them to Paris, and with whom Mr. Smith laid
the foundation of a friendlhip, which he always
mentioned with great fenfibility, and of which
lie often lamented the ftiort duration. The pane-
gyrics with which the memory of this accompliih*
cd and amiable perfon has been honoured by fo
many diftinguifhed charaders in the different
countries of Europe, are a proof how well fitted
bis ulents were to command genejal admiration.
The efteem in which his abilides and learning
were held by Mr. Smith, is a teftimony to his

extraor^

JxvHl ACCOUNT OP THE LIFE AND

extraordinary merit of ftill fuperior value. Mr*
Hume, too, fecms, in this inftance, to have par-,
taken of his friend's euthufiafm* " Were you
** and I together, (fays he in a letter to Mr,
^* Smith) wc Ihould fhed tears at prefent for the
" death of poor Sir James Macdonald. Wc
" could not poflibly have fuffered a greater lofs
" than in that valuable young man,''

In this firft vifit to Paris, the Duke of Buc-
CLEUGH and Mr. Smith employed only ten or
twelve days*, after which they proceeded to

Thouloufe,

* The day after Kis arrival at Paris, Mr. Smith fent a for^
mal refignation of his Profefibrihip to the Redlor of the Uni-.
vcrfity of Glafgow. " I never was more auxious (fays he ia
** the' conclufion of his letter) for the good of the College,
*' than at this moment ', and I (incerely wiih, that whoever is
" my fucceflbr may not only do credit to the office by his abi-
** lities^ but be a comfort to the very excellent men with whom
" he is likely to fpend his life, by the probity of bis hearty
'• and the goodnefs of his temper," *

The following pxitzA from the records of the Univerfity,
which follows iminediately after Mr. Smith's letter of refig-
nation, is at once a teilimony to his afiidui^ as a ProfeiTor,
and a proof of the juft fenfe which that learned body enter-
tained of the talents and worth of the colleague they had loft :

** The meeting accept ofI)r. Smith's refignation, in terms
" of the above letter, and the office of ProfeiTor of Moral
•* Philofophy in this Univerfity is therefore hereby declared to
** be vacant. The Univerfity, at the fame time, cannot help
*' expreifing their fincere regret at the removal of Dr. Smith,
.^/ whofe diftinguifhed probity and anoiable qualities procured

" him

Thouloufe, where they fixed their rcfidencc for
eighteen months ; and where, in addition to the
pleafure of an agreeable fociety, Mr» Smith had
an opportunity of corre&ing find extending his
information, concerning the internal policy of
France, by the intimacy in which he lived with
fome of the principal perfoixs of the Parliament.

From Thouloufe they went, by a pretty exten-
five tour, through the fouth of France to Geneva4
Here they pafled two months. The late Eavl
Stanhope, for whofe learning and worth Mr.
Smith entertained a fincere refpeft, was then an
inhabitant of that republic.

About Chriftmas 1765, they returned to Paris,
and remained there till OAober following. The
fociety in which Mr. Smith fpent thefe ten
months, may be conceived from the advantages
he enjoyed, in confequence of the recommen-
dations of Mr. HuMK. Turcot, Q^esnai,

NeCKER, d'AlEMBERT, HeLVETIUS, MaRMON-

TEL, Madame Riccoboni, were among the num-
ber

" him the efteem tnd affection of his colleagues ; and whofe
*' uncommon genius, great abilities, and extenfive learning,
<' did fo much honour to this fociety ; his elegant and ingeni-
" ous Theor/ of Moral Sentiments having recommended him
*' to the efteem of men of tafte and literature throughout £u-
" rope. His happy talent of illuftrating abftrafted fubjeAs,
** and faithful afRduity in communicating ufeful knowledge,
** diftinguifhed him as a Profeifor, and at once afibrded the
** greateft pleafure and the moft important inllruAion to tht
^ youth under his care.'*

Ut ACCOUNT Of THE LIFE AND"

ber of his acquaintances ; and fome of them he
continued ever afterwards to reckon among his
friends. From Madame d'ANviLLE, the refpeft-
able mother qf the late excellent and much la-^
mented Duke of Rochefoucauld^, he receiv-
ed

* The following letter^ which has becti vtTj aecidentallj
preferved, while it fervet as a memorial of Mr. Smith's xbn-
neAion with the famil/ of Rochefoucauld, is fo exprefiiye
©f the virtuous and liberal mind of the writer, that I am per-
fiwded it will ^ve pleafure to the focietj to record it in their
TranfaAioQi.

Parity 3 Mart, 1778-

•* Le defir de fe rappeller a votre fouvenir, Monficur,
^uand on a eu Thonneur dp vous connoUrc, doit vous paroitre
fort naturel ; permettez que nous faifiifions pour cela^ ma
Mere et moi« I'occafion, d'une edition nouvelle des Maxlmes
de la Rochefoucauld^ dont nous ptenons la liberte de vous ofiFrir
un exemplaire. Vous vo/es que nous n'avons point de ran-
cune, puifque le mal que vous avez dit de lui dans la Theorie
des Senttmens Moraux^ ne nous emp^che point de vous envoier
ce mSme ouvrage. II s'en eJl meme fallu de peu que je ne
liffe encore plus, (iar j'avois eu peut^tre la t6m^rit6 d'entre-
prendre une traduAion de votre Theorie ; mais comme je vc-
nois de terminer la premiere panie, j'ai vu paroitre la tra-
dudion de M. TAbb^ Blavst, et j'ai iti forc^ de renoncer
au plaifir que j'aurois eu de faire pafier dans ma langue un
des meiUeurs ouvrages de la v6tre.

" II auroit bien fallu pour lors cntreprendre une juftifica-
tion de mon grandpere. Peutetre n'auroit-il pas et6 difficile,
premierement de I'excufer, en difant, qu'il avoit toujours vu
les hommes a la Cour, et dans la guerre civile, deux theatres
fur lef quels Us font certainement plus mauvats quatUeurs ; et en-
fuite de juilifier par la conduite peifoneUe de I'auteur, les

principes

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITBL kid

ed many atteutions, which he always recolle&ed
with particular gratitude*

It is much to be regretted, that he prcferved no
journal of this very interefting period of bis hif-

tory ;

prindpes qui font certainement trop generalifes dans fon our-
rage. II a pris la partie pour le tout; et parceque les gess
qu'il avoit eu le plus fous les yeux ^toient animus par tmMwr
fropre^ il en a fait le mobile g^a6ral de tous les homqies. Au
refte^ quoique fon ouvrage merite a certains ^gards d'etre
combattu» il eft cependaat efiimable xn^me pout le £oikI» et
beaucoup pour la forme.

** ^etmttttz moi de vous demander, fi nous aurons bkntdt
une edition complette At^ ouvres de votre illuftre ami JJ.
Hume ? Nous I'avons fincferement regrett^.

*' Receves, je vous fupplie, Tezpreffion finc^re de tens les
fentimens d'eftime et^ d'attachement ayec lefquels j'ai I'hon-
neurd'^tre, Monfieur, votre tr^s humble et ticsobcifant fer-

vitCUT,

" Le Due de la RocHirorcAULD.**

Mr. Smith's laft intercoUrfe with this excellent man was in
the year 1789, when he informed him hj meana of a friend
who happened to be then at Paris, that in the future editions
of his Theory the name of RocHsroucAULD (hould be no
longer clafTed with that of Mandsvillx. In the enlarged
edition accordingly of that work, publifhed a ihort time be-
fore his death, he has fuppreflcd his cenfure of the author of
the Maxtmes ; who feems indeed (however exceptionable many
«f his principles may be) to have been a£luated, both in his
life and writings, by motives very different from thofe of
Mandxville. The real fcope of thefe maxims is placed, I
think, in a juft light by the ingenious author of the notice pre-
fixed to the edition of them publiihed at Paris in 177$-

Ixxii AdCOUNT OF THE LIFE AlfD

tory ; and fuch was his averfioa to write Icttci*^,
that I fcarcely fuppofe any memorial of it cxifts
in his correfpondence with his fridtids. The
extent and accuracy of his memory, in which
he was equalled by few, made it of little confe*
quence to'himfelf to record in writing what he
heard or faw; and from his anxiety before his
death to deflroy all the papers in his pofleilion^
he feems to have wiftied, that no materials fhould
remain for his biographers, but what were fiir-
niihed by the lading monuments of his genius^
and the exemplary worth of his private life.

The fatisfaftion he enjoyed in the converfatiott
of Turcot may be eafily imagined. Their opi-
nions on the moft eifential points of political
oeconomy were the fame; and they were both
animated by the fame laeal for the beft interefts
of mankind. The favourite ftudies, too, of both
had direded their enquiries to fubjefts on which
the underftandings of the ableft and the beft in-
formed are liable to be warped, to a great degree,
by prejudice and pafiion; and on which, of con-
fequence, a coincidence of judgment is peculiarly
gratifying. We are told by one of the biogra-
phers of TuRGOt, that ^fter his retreat from the
miniftry, he occupied his leifure in a philofophi-
cal correfpondence with fome of his old friends;
and, in particular, that various letters, on impor-
tant fubjefts, pafled between him and Mr. Smith.
I take notice of this anecdote chiefly as a proof
of the intimacy which was underftood to have

fubfiftcd

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. l»ili

•

fabfifted between them; for in other refpefts^
the anecdote feems to me to be fomewhat doubt-
fiil. It is fcarccly to be fuppofed, that Mr,
Smith would deftroy the letters of fuch a cor-
refpondent as Turcot; and ftill lefs probable,
that fuch an intercourfe was carried on between
them without the knowledge of any of Mr.
Smith's friends. From fome enquiries that have
been made at Paris by a gentleman of this Society
fince Mr. Smith's death, I have reafon to believe,
that no evidence of the correfpondence exifts
among the papers of M. Turgot, and thait the
whole ftory has taken its rife from a report fug-
gefied by the knowledge of their former intima-
cy. This circumftanpe I think it of importance
to mention, becaufe a good deal of curiofity has
been excited by the paflagc in queftion, with re-
fped to the fate of the fuppofed letters.

Mr. Smith was alfo well known to M. Qjjes*
NAi, the profound and original author of the
(Economical Table; a man (according to Mr.
Smith's account of him) " of the greateft mo-
" defty and fimplicity ;" and whofe fyftcm of po-
lidcal oeconomy he has pronounced, ^' with all
" its imperfeftions," to be " the neareft approxi-
" mation to the truth that has yet been publifhed
" on the principlesof th^t very important fcience."
If he had not been prevented by Q£esn ai's death,
Mr. Smith had once an intention (as he told
me himfelf ) to have infcribed to him hie ^^ Wealth
« of Nations.''

e Ic

tttdf ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

It was not, howcvcT-, merely the diftinguiftied
liien who, about this peridd fixed fo fpletidid an
ara in the literary hiftory of France, that excit-
ed Mr. Smith's curiofity while he remained it
Paris. His acquaintance with the polite literature
both of ancient and modern times was extenfive ;
and amidft his various other occupations, he had
never negleded to cultivate a tafte for the fine
arts ;-i^left, it is probable, with a view to the pe-
culiar enjoyments they convey, (though he was
by no means without fenfibility to their beauties),
than on accouht of their conrieftion with the ge-
neral principles df the human mind ; to an exa-
mination of which they afford the moft pleafing
of all avenues. To thofe who fpfcculate on this
\cfy delicate fubjeft, a comparifoh of the modes
of uite that prevail among different nations, aS*
fords a valuable collcAion of fa£ls; and Mr.
Smith, who was always difpofed to afcribe to
cufiom and fafhion their foil fhare in regulating
the opinions of mankind withrefpcdl to beauty,
inay naturally be fuppdfcd to haVc availed himfelf
of every opportunity which a foreign country af"-
fofded him of illuftrating his former theories.

/ Some of his peculiar notions, tdo, with refped
to the imitative arts, leem to have been much con-
firmed by his obfervationi while abroad. In ac-
counting for the j)leafures we receive from thefe
arts, it had early occurred to him as a fundamen-
tal principle, that a very great part of it arifcs
from the difficulty of the imitation ; a principle

which

WRITINCS OF DR. SMITH. kxt

wjbich was probably fuggefted to him by that of
the. diffjculte furmonteCy by which fome French
critics had attempted to explain the efieift of ver-
fificatioti aild of rhyme*.' This principle' Mr.
Smith pu(hed to the greateft poflible length, and
referred to it. With fiilgular ingenuity, a great va-
riety of phenomena in all the different fine arts.
It led him, however, to fome conclufictos, which
appear, at fii-ft view at leaft, not a little paradoxi-
cal; and I cannot help thinking, that it warped
Jus judgment in many of the opinions whith he
was accuftonfied to give on the fubjeft of poetry*

*rhe principles of dramatici compofition hftd
tnore particularly attrafted his attention ; and
the hiftory of the theatre, both in iancient and
r^odern times, had fiirniftied him with fome of
the moft remarkable fefts on which his theory of
the imitative arts was founded. From thi» theory
it feemed to follow as a confequence, that the
fame circumftanccS which, in tragedy, give to
blank verfe an advantage ovci* profe, fliould give
to rhyme an advantage over blank verfe; and
Mr. Smith had always inclined to that opinion.
Nay, he had gone fo far as to extefnd the fame
dodrine to comedy ; and to regret that thofe ex-
cellent piftures of life and manners which the
Englifti ftagc affords, had not been executed after
the model of the French fchool. The admira-
tion with which he regarded the great dramatic
e 2 authors

* See the Prefac€ to VgiTAinE'a OcJipe^ Edit, of 1739. ^

Ixrvi ACJCdUNT OF THE tlFt AND

authors of France tended to confirm him m thefe
opinions; and this admiration (refulting origi-
nally from the general chara&er of his tafte,
ivhich delighted more to remark that pliancy of
genius which accommodates itfelf to eftabliftied
rules^ than to wonder at the bolder flights of an
undifciplined imagination) was increafed to a
great degree, when he faw the beauties that had
firuck him in the clofet, heightened by the ut-
moft perfection of theatrical exhibition. In the
laft years of his life, he fometimes amufed him-
felf, at a leifure hour, in fupporting his theoreti-
cal conclufions on thefe fubjcds, by th6 fafts
ti^hich his fubfcquent ftudies and obfervations had
fuggefted ; and he intended, if he had lived, to
have prepared the refult of thefe labours for the
prefs. Of this work he has left for publication a
fliort fragment; but he had not proceeded far
enough to apply his dodrin^ to verfificatipn and
to the theatre. As his notions, hoWever, with
refpeSt to thefe were a favourite topic of his con-
Terfation, and Were intimately conne£ted with
his general principles of criticifm, it would have
been im{>roper to pafs them over in this fketch
of his life ;- and I even thought it proper to detail
them 3i greater length than the comparative im-
portance of the fubje6l would have juftified, if
he had carried hU plans into execution, Whe-^
ther his loVe of fyftem, added to his partiality for
ihe French drama^ may not have led him, in thid
inilance, to generalize a little too much his con^^
clufions, and to overlook ibme peculiarities ia the

language

WRITINGS OF DR- SMITH. Ixxni

language and verfigcation of that country, I ihall
pot take upon me to determine.

In O^ober 1766, thcDu^eof Buccleugh re-f
turned tq Loudon. His GTrace, to whom I am
indebted for feveral particulars in the foregoing
narrative, will, I hope, forgive the liberty I ukc
ia tranfcribing one paragraph in his own words :
*' l4 Oftober 1766, we returned tq London, af-
** ter haying fpent near three years together, with-
^ out the llighteft difagreement or coolnefs ;•— on
^ my part, with every advantage that could be
** expefted from the fociety of fuch a man. We
" continued to live in friendfhip till the hour of
^' his death ; and 1 Ihall always remain with the
** impreflion of having loft a friend whom I loved
f* and refpe&ed, not only for his great talents,
** but for every private virtue/*

The Retirement in which Mr. Smith paflTed
bis next ten years, formed a ftriking contraft to
the unfettled mode qf life he had been for fame
time accuftomed to^ but wa8[ fo congenial to his
natural difpofition, and to his firft habits, that it
was with the utmoft difficulty he was ever per-
fuadcd to leave it. During the whole of this pe-
riod, (with the exception of a few vifits to Edin-
burgh and London) he remained with hi§ mother
at Kirkaldy; occupied habitually ii; intenfe ftudy,
but unbending his mind at times in the company
of fome of his old Ichool-fellows, whofe " fpber
wifhes^' had attached them to the place of ^ their

birth.

Ltxviii ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

birth. In the focicty of fuch men, Mr. Smith
delighted ; and to them he was endeared, not
only by hh fimple and unafTuming manners, but
by th^ perfcdl knowledge they all poffeffed of
thofe dpmeftic virtues which had diftinguilhcd
him from his infancy,

Mr. Hume, who (as he tells us himfelf) conftr
dered " a, town as the true fcene for a man of let^
*' ters," made many attempts to feduce him fronj
his retirement. In a letter, dated in 1772, hip
urges .him to pafs fpme tin^ with him in Edin-
burgh. " I ftiall not take any cj^cnfe from your
" ftate of health, which I fuppofe only a fubterr
** .fugc invented by indolence and love of foUr '
" tvi4?« Indeed, my dear Smith, if you con.-
^^ tiuue to hearken tQ complaints of this nature,
** you will cut yourfelf out entirely from human
''^ fociety, tp the great Ipfs of bath p^rtiei.'' In
l^npther letter, dated in 1769, from his houfe in
James's Court, (which commanded a profpeft of
^he Frith of Forth, apd of the oppofite coaft of
Fife) " I am gl^d (fays he) to have come within
" fight of you ; but as I would alfo be within •
" fpeaking terms of you, I wifh we could con-
** cert meafures for that purpofp. I am mortal-
" ly fick at fea, and regard with horror, and a
" kind of hydrophobia, the great g\ilph that lies
^* between us, I am alfo tired pf travelling, as
" much as you ought naturally to be of flaying at
" home. I therefpre propofe to you to come hi-
f* ther, and pafs fomc days with me in this foli-

" tudc.

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. Ixxix

^ tude. I want to know what you have been dq-
** ing, and propofe to exa6i a rigorous account of
** the method in which you have employed your-
** felf during your retreat. I am pofitive you arc
** in the wrong in many of your fpeculations^
** efpecially where you have the misfortune to
** difier from me. All thefe are reafons for our
** meeting, and I wifli you would make me fomc
** iieafonable propofal for that purpofc. There is
" no habitation in the ifland of Inchl^eith, other-
^ wife I Ihould challenge you to meet me on that
" fpot, and neither of us ever to leave the placcj,
" till we wete fully agreed on all points of con-
" trpvcrfy. I expedl General Conway here to-
^ iporrow, whom I fhall attend to Rofeneath, and
** I ftiall remain there a few days, On my re-
** turn, I hope to find a letter from yo\j, contain,-
<' ing a bold acceptance of this defiance.*'

At length (in the beginning of the year 1776)
Mr. Smith accounted to the world for his long
retreat, by the publication of his " Inquiry into
** the Nature and Caufes of the Wealth of Na-
" tions/* A letter of congratulation on this event,
from Mr. Hume, is now before me. It is dated
ift April 1^76, (about fix months before Mr.
Hume's death) and difcovers an amiable folici*
tude about his friend's literary fame. " Euge !
" S^//d/. Dear Mr. Smith: I am much pleafed
" with your performance, and the perufal of it
*^ has taken me from a ilate of great anxiety. It
'* was a work of fo much expe&ation, by your-

« felf.

Ixxx ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

*' fclf, by your friends, and by the public, that
" I trembled for its appearance; but am now
" much relieved. Not but that the reading of it
" neceflarily requires fo much attention, and the
** public is difpofed to give fo little, that I ftiall
" ftill doubt for fome time of its being at firft
** very popular. But it has depth and folidity
" and acutcnefs, and is fo much illuftrated by
" curious fadls, that it muft at laft ukc the pub-
" lie attention. It is probably much improved
« by your laft abode in London. If you were
" here at my fire-fide, I fliould difputc fome of

" your principles

*'..... But thefe, and a hundred other
" points, are fit only to be difcuffcd in converfa-
" tion. I hope it will be foon; for I am in ^
'< very b^d ftate of health, and cannot afford a
" long delay."

Of a book which is now fo univerfajly known
as " The Weahh of Nations/' it might be cbnfi-
dered perhaps as fuperfluous to give a particular
analyfis ; and at any rate, the limits of this eflay
make it impoflible for me to attempt it at prefent,
A few remarks, however, on the fubjeii and ten-
dency of the work, may, I hope, be introduced
without impropriety. The hiftory of a Philofo-
pher's life can contain little more than the hifto-
ry of his fpcculations ; and in the cafe of fuch
tn author as Mr. Smith, whofe ftudies were
fyftematically direfled from his youth to fubjeds
9f the laft importance to human happinefs, a re-

view

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. l»xl

yie^ of his writings, while it ferves to illuftratc
the peculiarities of his genius, afford? the moft
faithful pidure of his character ^t a man.

S E C T I O N IV.

^The Inquiry into the Nature and Caufes gf
the Wealth of Nations *.

xVn hiftorical review of the different forms un-
der which human afiair^ have appeared in diffe-
rent ages and natiops, naturally fuggefls the quef-
tion. Whether the experience of former timea
may not now fumilh fome general principles to
enlighten and direft the policy of future legifla-
tors? The difcuffion, however, to which this
quefiion leads is of lingular difficulty ; as it re-
quires an accurate analyfls of by far the moft
complicated clafs of phsenomena that can poffi-
bly engage our attention, thofe which refult from
the intricate and often the imperceptible roecha-^
nifm of political fociety ; — a fubjeft of obferva-
tion which feems, at firll view, fo little commen-
furate to our faculties, that it has been generally

regarded

* The length to which this Memoir has alread/ extended,
together with fome other ^reafons which it is unneceflary to
mention here, have induced oie, in printing the following
fedtion, to confine myfelf to a much more general view of the
fubjed than I once intended*

Ixxxu ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

regarded with the feme paffive emotions of won-
der and fubmiffion, with which, in the material
world, wc furvcy the effefts produced by the my-
fterious and uncontroulable operation of phyfical
caufes. It 18 fortunate that upon this, as on niany
other occafions, the difficulties which had long
baffled the efforts of folitary genius begin to ap-
pear left formidable to the united exertions of
the race; and that in proportion as the experi-
ence and the reafonings of different individuals
are brought to bear upon the fame objeds, and
^e combined i;i f^ch a n^nner as toilluftrate and
to limit each other, the fisience of politics afTumes
snore and mqrp that fyftematical form which fa-
courages and aids the labours of future enquircrjB|i

In profecuting the fcience of politics on thi3
plan, little aififtance is to b^ derived from th^
fpeculations of ancient philqfophers, the greater
part of whom, in their political enquiries, con-
fined their atteation to ^ coi^parifon of different
forms of government, and to an examination of
the provifions they made for perpetuating their
own exiftence, ai^d for extending the glory of th^
ftate. It was referved for modern times to invcfti-
gate thofc univ^rfal principles of juftice and of
expediency, which ought, under every form of
government, to regulate the focial order; and of
which the obje6^ is, to make as equitable a diftri-
bution as poflible, among all the different menn
bers of a community, of the advantages arifing
from the political union.

The

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. Ikxxiii

The invention of printing was perhaps necef-
fary to prepare the way for thefe Tcfcarchcs. In
thofe departments of literature and of fcicncc,
where genius finds within itfclf the materials o
its labours ; in poetry, in pure geometry, and i;
feme branches of moral philofophy ; the ancient
have not only laid the foundations on which wc
arc to build, but have left great and finifhcd ma
dels for our iinitation. But in phyfics, where our
progrefs depends on ani immenfe coUeftion o^
fa<fts, and on a combination of the accidental
lights daily ftruck out in the innumerable walks
of obfcrvation and experiment ; and in politics,
where the materials of our theories are equally
(tattered, and are coUeAcd and arranged with
ftill greater difficulty, the means of communica-
tioji afforded by the prefs have, in the courfe of
two centuries, accelerated the progrefs of the hu-
man mind, far beyond what the moft fanguine
hopes of our predeceObrs could hay? imagined.

The progrefs already pnade in this icience, in.
confidcrable as it is in comparifon of what may
be yet expefted, has been fufficient to ftiew,
that the happinefs of mankind depends, not on
the fhare which the people pofTefTes, direftly Or
indiredly, in the enaftment pf laws, but on the
equity and expediency of the lav;s that are en-
aSed. The fhare which the people poffefTcs in
the government is interefting chiefly to the fmall
number of men whofe obje£l is the attainment of
political importance; but the equity and expe-
diency

hxxW ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

diency of the laws are interefting to every mem-
t)cr of the community : and more efpecially to
thofe whofe perfonal infignificance leaves them no
encouragement, but what they derive from the ge-
neral fpirit of the government under which they
^ive.

It is evident, therefore, that the mod important
l^ranch of political fcience is that which has for
its objeft to afcertain the philqfpphical principles
of jurifprudence; or (as Mr. Smith exprpfTes it)
to afcertain '^ the general principles whicli ought
** to run through and be thp foundation of the
" laws qf all nations *." In countries, where the
prejudices of th^ pepple are widely at variance
with thefe principles, the political liberty which
the coiiilitution beftows, only furnifhes them with
the means of ^ccomplifhing their own ruin ; And
if it were poflible to fuppofe thf fe principles com-
pletely realized in aiiy fyftem of laws, the people
would have little reafon to complain, that they
were not immediately inftru omental in their enaft-
incnt. The only infallible criterion of the excel-
lence of any conftitution is to be found in the
detail of its municipal code ; and the value which
wife men fet on political freedom, arifes chiefly
from the facility it is fuppofed to afford, for the
introduftion of thofe legiflative improvements
which the general interefts of the community
recommend. — I cannot help adding, that the ca-
pacity

• Sec the conclufion of his Theory of Moral Sentiments.

WRITINGS OF Dk. SMITH. Ixxxy

pacity of a people to cxercifc political rights with
utility to themfelves and to their country, pre-
fuppofes a diffiifion of knowledge and of good
morals, which can only refult from the previous
operation of laws favourable to induftry, to order,
and to freedom.

Of the truth of thefe remarks, enlightened p6*
liticians feem now to be in general convinced;
for the moft celebrated works which have been
produced in the different countries of Europe,
during the laft thirty years, by Smith, Qjjesn ai,
Turcot, Campomanes, Beccaria, and others,
have aimed at the improvement of fociety, — not
by delineating plans of new conftitutions, but by
enlightening the policy of aftual legiflatori. —
Such fpeculations, while they are more eflential-
ly and more extenfively ufeful than any others,
have no tendency to unhinge eftablifli^ inftitu-
tions, or to inflame the paflions of the multitude.
The improvements they recommend are to be ef-
fefted by means too gradual and flow in their
operation, to warm the imaginations of any but
of the fpecuUtive few ; and in proportion as they
arc adopted, they confolidate the political fabric,
and enlarge the bafis upon which it refts.

To dircft the policy of nations with refpedi to
one moft important clafs of its laws, thofe which
form its fyftem of political (Economy, is the great
aim of Mr. Smith's Inquiry : And he has un-
queftionably had the merit of prefenting to the

world

Ixkxn ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

world, rhe moft C0mprehcnfiv€ and perfe<a.woik
that has yet appeaiisd, oa the general principles
of any branch of legiflation. The example which
he has fet will be followed, it is to be hoped, in
due time, by other writers, for whom the iuter-
nal policy of ftatcs furnifhes many other fubjcfls
of difcuflion no lefs curious and interef^ing ; and
may accelerate the progrefs of that fcience wbieh
Lord Bacon has fo well defcribed in the fol-
lowing paflage i " Finis ct fcopu^ quern leges in-
** tueri, atque ad quern juiliones et fandiones fuas
*' dirigere debent, non alius eft, quam ut cives
" feliciter degant: id fiet, ii pietate et religione
" rede inftituti; moribus honefti ; armis adverfus
' ** hoftes externos tuti; legum auxilia adverfus fe-
^* ditiones et privatas injurias muniti; imperio^t
*^ magiftratibus obfequentes; copiis et opibu^lo-

" cupletes et florentes fuerint. Certe cognitio

^^ ifta ad\iros civiles proprie ipe6bt; qui optima
'/ norunt, quid ferat focietas humana, quid fains
'' populi, quid squitas naturalis, quid gentium
*' mores, quid rerumpublicarum formae diverfs :
" ideoque poflint de legibus, ex principiis et prae-
** ceptis tarn sequitatis naturalis, quam politices
^' decernere. Qjiamobrem id nunc agatur, ut
'^ fontes juftitise et utilitatis publicse petantur, et
" in fmgulis juris partibus charadler quidam et
f^ idea jufti exhibeatur, ad quam particularium
" r^gnorum et rerumpublicarum leges probare, I
f* atque inde emendationcm nioliri, quifquc, cui i
f^ hoc cordi erit et curse, poflit." The cnumera- '
tion contained in the foregoing pafTage, of the dif- |

fcrcnt I

WRITINGS OF DIL SMITH, l^xxvii

ferent objeds of law, coincides very nearly with
that given by Mr. Smith in the conclufion of
his Theory of Moral Sentiments ; and the precife
aim of the political fpeculations which he then
announced, and of which he afterwards publiih*
cd fo valuable a part in his Weahh of Nations,
was to afcertain the general principles of juftiee
and of expediency, which ought to guide the in-
ftitutions of legiflators on thei'e important articles;
—in the words of Lord Bacon, to afcertain thof6
ieges hguniy " ex quibus informatio peti poiIit>
** quid in fingulis legibus bene aut perperam po-
•^ fitum aut conilitutum fit."

The branch' of legiflation which Mr. Smith
has made choice of as the fubje£l of his work,
-liatarally leads me to remark a very ftriking con*-
trail between the fpirit of ancient and of modern
policy in refpeft to the Wealth of Nations*.
The great objeft of the former was to -counteraft
the love of money and a tafte for luxury, by po-
iitive inftitutions; and to maintain in the great
body of the people, habits of frugality, and a fc^
verity of manners. The decline of ftates is uni-
formly afcribed by the philofophers and hifto-
rians, both of Greece and Rome, to the influence
of riches on national charafler ; and the laws of
Lycurgus, which, during a courfe of ages, ba-
nifhed the precious metals from Sparta, are pro-

pofed

* Sdence de la Le^flation^ par le Chev. Filangikki,
Liv. L chap. 13.

Ixxtviii ACc6uNt Ot THE LIEE AND

pofed by many of them as the tnoft pferfe6l model
of legiflatiori devifed by humail wifdomt — ^How
dppofite to this is the do&rine of modern politi-
cians ! Far from confidering poverty as an advan-
tage to a ftate> their great aim is to open newr
fource^ of iiational opuleilce, and to animate the
aftivity of all clafTes of the people by a tafte for
the comforts and accotnmodations of life.

One principal caufe of this difference between
the fpirit of ancient and of modern policy, may
be found in the difference between the fources of
' national wealth in ancient and in modern times.
In ages when commerce and manufa£lures were
yet in their infancy, and among ftates conftituted
like moft of the ancient republics, a fudden in-
flux of riches from abroad was juftly dreaded as
an evil, alarming to the morals, to the induftry,
and to the freedom of a people. So different,
however, is the cafe at prefent, that the moft
Wealthy nations are thofe where the people are
the moft laborious, and where they enjoy the
greateft degree of liberty. Nay, it was the gene-
ral diffufion of wealth among the lower orders
of men, which firft gave birth to the fpirit of in-
dependence in modern Europe, and which has
produced under fome of its governments, and
efpecially under our own, a more equal diffufion
of freedom and of happinefs than took place
under the moft celebrated conftitutions of an-
tiquity.

Without

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. ixx£x

"Without this diffufiou of wealth among the
lower orderS) the importaut eflFeds rcfulting from
the iavention of printing would have been ex-
tremely limited 5 for a certain degree of cafe and
iadependence is neceffary to infpire men with the
delire tof knowledge, and to aflford them the lei-
furc which is requifite for acquiring it ; and it is
only by the rewards which fuch a ftate of fociety
iholds up to induftry and ambition, that the fel-
£{h paflions of the multitude can be interefted in.
the intelledual improvement of their children.
The exten£ve propagation of light and refinement
arifing from the influence of the prefs, aided by
the ipirit of commerce, feems to be the remedy
provided by nature, againll the fatal efie£ls which
would otherwife be produced, by the fubdiviiioa
of labour accompanying the progrefs of the me-
chanical ans : Nor is any thing wanting to make
the remedy effedual, but wife inftitutions to faci-
litate general inftrudion, and to adapt the educa-
tion of individuals to the ftations they are to oc-
cupy* The mind of the artift, which, from the
limited fphere of his a&ivity, would iink below
the level of the peafant or the favage, might re-
ceive in infancy the means of intelleftual enjoy-
ment, and the feeds of moral improvement ; and
even the infipid uniformity of his profeflional en-
gagements, by prefenting no objcft to awaken
his ingenuity or to diftrad his attention, might
leave him at liberty to employ his faculties, on
fubjedis more intereiling to himfelf, and more ex-
ten£vely ufeful to others.

f Thcfe

it Acdoimf OF THE life And

Thcfc cffefts, notwithftanding & variety of op-
pofing caufes which ftill ciift, have already tc-
fulted, in a very fenfibte degree, frmn the liberal
policy of modern times. Mr. Hume, in his Ef-
fay on G>mmerce, after taking notice of the nu-
merous armies raifed and maintained by the
fmall republics in the ancient world, aiferibe^ the
Inilitary power of thefe ftates to theit want of com-
merce aftd lojfcury. '* Few artifans Were itoin-
'• uined by the latx)ur of the farmers, and therc-
^ fore more foldiers might live upon it.^' He
adds, however, that ^ the policy of anfeicnt times
^ was vioi/ENT, and contrary to the natUrajd
^ courfe of things f — ^by which, I prefame, he
tneans, that it aimed tod much at modifying, by
<he force (rf pofitive inftitutions, theord^r of i<>-
ciety, according to fome preconceived idea of ex-
pediency; without trufting fuffieiently to thofe
principles of the human conftitution, which,
Wherever they arc allowed free fcope, not only
conduft mankind to happinefs, but lay thi fimA-
dation of a progreffive improvement in their con-
dition and in their charafler. The advantages
which modem' policy poffefled over the ancient,
arife principally from its conformity, in fome of
the moft important articles of political o6conomy>
to an order of things recommended by Mature;
and it would not be difficult to fhew, that where
it remains imptfrfedi its errors may be traced to
the reftfaintsit impofes on the namral courfe of
Ihuman a&irs; Indeed,* in thefe reilraints may
be difcovered the latent feeds of many of the pre-*

• judices

WRITIN6g Of DR. SMI'TH^ »cl

juctices aiid follies which infe& modern mannrts,
fand which have fo long bid defiance to the rea-
foningg of the philofopher and the ridicule of the
iatiriit*

The foregoing very itnperfeft hints appeared
to mc to form, not only a proper, but in fome
meafnre a necel&ry introdudion to the few re-
marks I have to offer on Mr. Smith's Inquiry ;
as they tend to illuftratc a connexion between hid
fyftcm of commercial politics, and thofe fpecula-
tions of his earlier years, in which he aimed
more pro&fiedly at the advancement of human
improvement and happinefs. It is this view of
political oeconomy that can alone render it inte-
hefting to the moralift, and can dignify calcula-
tions of profit and lofs in the eye of the philofo-
pher. Mr. Smith has alluded to it in various .
pallages of his work, but he has no where ex-
plained himfclf fully on the fubjeft; and the
great ftrcft he has laid on the effcds of the divi-
fion of labour in increafing its produ£live powers, *
feems, at firft fight, to point to a different and
very melancholy conclufion ;— — that the fame
eaufes which promote the progrefs of the arts,
tend to degrade the mind of the artift ; and, of
confequence, that the growth t)f national wealth
implies a facrifice of the charadler of the people.

The fundamental doflrincs of Mr. Smith^A

fyftem are now fo generally known, that it wouW

have been tedious to offer any recapitulation of

f z them

fatt ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

thetti in this place ; even if I could have hopea
tp do juftice to the fubje<a, within the limits which
I have prcfcribed to myfelf at pjfefem. A diftinfit
analyfis of his work might indeed be ufcfiil t6
inany readers ; but it would itfelf form a volume
^f coniiderable magnitude. I may perhaps^ at
ibtne future periddi prefent to the Society, an at-
tempt towards fuch an analyfis, which I began
long ago, for my own latisfadion, and which I
lately made confiderable progrefs in preparing for
the prefs, before I wa6 aware of the impoffibility
of conne&ing it, with the general plan of this
paper. In the mean time^ I {hall Content myfelf
with remarking, that the great alxd leading obje£l
of Mr. Smith's fpeculations is to illuftrate the
provifion made by nature in the principles of the
human mind, and in the circumftances of man's
external fituation, for a gradual and progrei&ve
augmentation in the means of national wealth;
and to demonflrate, that the moil effedlual plan
for advancing a people to gre&tnefs, is to main-
uin that order of things which nature has point-
ed out; by allowing every man, as long as he
obferves the rules of juftice, to purfue his own in-
tereft in his own \Vay, and to bring both his in-
duftry and his capital into the freeft eompetition
with thofc of his fellow-citizens. Every fyftcm
of policy which endeavours, either by extraordi-r
nary encouragements, to draw towards a particu-
lar fpecies p£ induftry a greater ftiare of the capi-
tal of the fociety than what would naturally gd
to it; or, by extraordinary reftraints, to force

from

WRITINGS OF BR. SMITH. ttiS

$^dm a particular fpeciea of induftry fome fliaie
of the capital which would otherwife be employ-
ed in it, is, ia reality, fubverfive of the great puii-
pofi; which it iqean^ tq promote.

What the circumftances are, which, in modem
Europe, have contributed to difturb this order of
pature, and, in particular, to encourage the in-
duftry qf tQwns, at the expeuce of that of the
country, ^r. Smit^ ha9 inveftigated with great
ingenuity; and i& Aich a manner^ as to throw
piuch new light on the hiftory pf that ftate of fd-
f iety which prevails in this quarter of the globe.
His obfervations on this fubjc& tend to fhew, that
thefe c^sciitnftances were, in their firft origin, the
natural and the unavoidable refult of the peculiar
fituation of mankind during a certain period;
and that they took their rife, not from any gene-
ral fcheme of policy, but from the private ime^.
X^s and pr^udipejs cif particuls|tr orders ^f inexu

The ftat^ ojf fctciety, however, wUch at firft
arofe from Zi fingular conibiiution of accidents^
has been prolonged much beyond its natural pe*
Tiod, by a f^lfe fyft^m of {)olitical ceconomy,
propagated by merchants and manu&Aurers ; %
clafs of individuaU, whoib intereft is not always
the fame with that of the public, and whofe pro-
fei&o,nal knowledge gave them many advantages,
more particularly in the infapcy of this branch of
jcience, in defending thpfe opinions which they
wiQied to encourage. By means of this fyftem,

anew

y«ir ACCOUNT OP THE tlEE AllO

a Dew fet of obftacles to the progtefs of national
prt^perity has been created. Thoife which arofe
from the diforders of (he feudal ages, tended di-
rcdUy to dilhirb the internal arrangements of fo-
cicty, by obftrudling the free circulation of labour
"^ and of ftock, from employment to employment,
and from place to place. The falfe fyftem of po-
litical oecoBLomy which has been hitherto preva-
lent, as its pro&fied object has been to regalate
the commercial intercourfe between difie^ent iia-
tionsji has produceid its effed in a way lefs dire6^
and lefs manifeft, but equally prejudicial to the
flates that have adopted itt

On this fyftem, as it took its rife from the
prejudices, or rather from the interefted views of
mercantik fpecuiators, Mr, Smith bellows the
tide of the Commercial or Mercantile Syftem;
and he has confidered at great length its two prin-<
cipd expedients for enriching a nation ; r^raints
upon importation, and encouragements to expor-*
tation* Part of thefe expedients, he obferves,
have been di&ated by the fpirit of monopoly,
and part by & fpirit of jealoufy againft thofe coun-r -
tries with which the balance of trade is fuppof-
cd to be diiadvantageous. AH of them appear
clearly, from his re^ibnings, to have a tendency
unfavourable to tlxe weahh of the nation which
impofes them.-^His remarks with Ytfpt6k to the
jealoufy, of commerce are exprefled in a tone of
indignadon, which he^feldom aflume$ in his po»
jitical writings,

« la

^ In this mauuer (%s he) the Ix^eakii^ arts qf
^ middling tr§def(pea are ere^led |ato political
^* maspms for the cq^^iduflk of a great enipirer Bjr
^' fuch maxima jif tfaefe, nations have beea taoghi^
^ that their imereft coniifted ixi beggaring aU
^* their aeighboqrs. Each ]iatiQ4 has been mad^
f* to look with aA invidious eye upon thp profpe-
*^ rity of ^U the nationa yi\ih which it tiadea^
^^ and to copiider their gain aa itf owi^ lofs.
^ Comper<:e^ which ought n^tally to be among
^ nations a^ amoi^g indiyidualf, ^^ bond qf unio^i
t^ and friendihip> has become the moil fertile
^ fonrce of difcqrd ai^d aiiimQ:^ty. Thjp caprir
5^ cious ambitiqfi of Kii^gs and Miiiifter^ has not,
^' during (hs prp^^ and the pi:ecedi2)g century, .
^ been more iittal to \\if repofe qf ^urppe, thai^
^ tlie imper^ne4t js^Qufy pf inerchaatu and ma*
^ niiia3wer9. The violei^ce and inji^ftice of the
^ jrulers qf mankind is an anciezit evil, for which
^< perhaps the fiamre of buin|(4 affaif « can fcarce
^ admit of a reniedy. J^ut the wan r:y>acity,
f' the monopolizing fpirif qf iperchapts and ma^
'' nu£Eidurers, wl^q pcith^ir i(re nor ought p be
'' the rulers of mankind, fhough it cannot per-
♦* haps be correi^ed, may very cafily bfipreventr
<^ ed fropi difturbing the tnuiquillity of any bqdv
<* hut thcmfelves.'*

Such are the Hberal prijotciples w^iich, a^i^qr^.
ing to Mr. Smith, ought to dire& the commer-
cial policy of nation^; and of which it qught to
i^ the great objedl of legiflatofs to ^ciliute the

eftablifli.

xcvi ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

eftablifhmcnt. In what manner the execution of
the theory (hould be conduced in particular in-
ilances, is a queflion of a verjr different nature,
and to which the anfwer muft vary, in different
countries, according to the diflferent circumftances
of the cafe. In a fpeculative work, fuch as Mn
Smith's, the confideration of this queftion did
not fall properly under his general plan ; but that
he was abundantly aware of the danger to be ap-
prehended from a ralh application of political
theories, appears not only from the general drain
of his writings, but from fome incidental obfer-
vations which he has exprefsly made upon the
fubjeft. " So unfortunate (fays he, in one pafc
*' fage) are the effeds of all the regulations of the
*** mercantile f3fftcm, that they not only i&tr6-
** duce very dangerous diforders into the ftate of
" the body politic, but diforders which it is often
" difficult to remedy, without occafioning, for a
" time at Icaft, ftill .greater diforders. — ^In what
" manner, therefore, the natural fyftem of per-
" fcft liberty and juftice ought gradually to be
** reftorcd, we mull leave to the wifdom of future
" ftatefmen and legiflators to determine/' In the
laft edition of his Theory of Moral Sentiments,
he has introduced fome remarks, which have an
obvious reference to the fame important doctrine.
The following paflage feems to refer more parti-
cularly to thofe derangements of the focial order,
which derived their Origin ftom the feudal infti-*
tutions:

^Thc

WRITINeS OF DR. S^ITH. »cv\5

^ The man whofe public fpirit is prompted air
^' t<^thf:r by huinanity and benevolence, will
" refped the ^ftab}ilhed powers and privileges
** even of individuals, and ftiU more pf the great
" orders and focieties into whiph the ftate is di^
" vided« Though he Ihould confidcr fome of
*^ them as in fome meafure abuilve, he will con*
" tern himfelf with moderating, what he often
<* cannot annihilate without great violence.— r
** When he cannot conquer the rooted prejudiced
" of the people by rpafon and perfuafion, he will
•f not attempt to fubdup them by force ; but will
*5 religtouily obferve lyhat, by Cicero, is juftly
^^ called the divine maxim of Plato, never to
5< ufe violence to his fow^ry no more than to his
^^ parents. He will accommodate, as well as he
^ can, his public arrangement^ to the confirmed
f^ habits and prejudice^ of the people ; and he
** will remedy, as well as he can, the inconve-
** niencies which m^y flow; ff om the w^nt of thofc
^ regulations which the people are averfe to (ub-
*' mit to. When he cannot eftablilh the right,
" he will not difdain to ameliorate the wrong;
*' but like Solon, when he cannot eftablilh the
** beft fyftem of laws, he will endeavour to efta^i.
^ bliib the beft that the people can bear/'

Thefe cautions with refpe^ to the pradical ap.«
plicadon of general principles were peculiarly
neceftary from the Author of " The Wealth of
*' Nations ;" as the unUmited freedom of trade,
which it is the chief aim of his work to recom-
mend^

gccFift ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE ANB

mend, is extremely apt, by flattering the indo*
lence of the ftatefman, tq fuggeft to thofe who are
invefted with at)folutQ power, the idfa of pany-
ing it intQ immediate execution, " Nothing is
*' more adverfe to the tranquillity of a ftatclinan
^ (fays the author of aci Elogc on the Admini-
** ft ration of Colbert) than a fpirit of inodera-
** tion; becaufe it condemns \i\m to perpetual
!' obfervation, fhew$ him every moxnent the in-
" fufficiency of his wifdom, and leaves him the
f melancholy fenfe of his own imperfe£Uon ;
^ while, under the ftidter of a few general prin-
^* ciples, a fyftcmatical politician enjoys a pcrpe-
^* tual calm. By the help of one alone, that of
** a perfcd liberty of tracie, he would govern the
*^ Worid, ai^d WQuld leave huiqaii afikir^ to afw
** range themfelves at plcafur^s, under the opera*
*^ tion of the prejudices and the felf-int^rcft of
^* individuals. If thefe run counter to each other,
*' he gives himfelf no anxiety fibout the confe-
** quence ; he infifts that the refult cannot be
*' judged of tin aftw a century w two fhall have
" elapfed. If his contemporaries, in confequence
** of the diforder into which he has. thrown pub-
" lie aflfairs, arc fcnipulous about ful^ttingquiet«
" ly to the experiment, he. accufes them of im-
** patience. Th^y alone, and not he^ arc to.
^"^ blame for what they have fufFered; and the
" principle continues to be inculcated with the
" fame zeal and the fame confidence as before/'
Thefe are the words of the ingenious and eloquent
iiuthor of the Elogc on Cox wrt, which obtain-
ed

WBITINOS OF Dlt SMITB, w^

td ^e piize from the French Academy in th«
yeair 1763;' a performance which, although con-i
fined and erroneous in its fpeculative views,
abounds with jtift and important reflcft^ons of 9,
pradical nature. How far his remarks apply tot
that particular clafs of politicians whom he had
evidently in his eye in the foreg[oing paflage, I
ihali not prefume to decide.

It is hardly ^eceflary f^r m^ to add to thef^
obfervaticms, that they do net detra£t in the leaft
from the value of thofe political theories which
attempt to delineate the principles of a perfe^
legiflaiion. Such theories (as I have elfewhere
obferved*) ought to b^ cosifidenpd merely as de-
fcriptions of the ultimate objeds at which the
ftatefman ought to aioi. The tranquillity of his
adminiftration, and the immediate fuccefs of his
cmfores, depend on his good fenie and his prac-
tical (kill; aftd his theoretical principles only
enable him to diredl his meafures fieadily and
wifely, to promote the improvement aiia happi-
nefs of mankind, and prevent him from being
ever led aftray from tbe& important ends, "^ by
more limited views of temporary expedience.—^
" In all cafes (fays Mr. Hume) it muft be ad van-
^ tageous to know what is moft perfe^l in the
** kind, that we may be able to bring any real
•* conftitution or form of government as near U
^ as pofiible, by fuch gentle alterations and in«

" novations

* Elementsof the Philofophj of the Human Mmd, p. 261.

^ ACCOUNT OF THE^ LIFE Aiq>

f* npvations as may not give too great difturbanc^
^\ to focicty,"

The limits of this Meraoiy ipakc k impoflible
for me to examiac particularly the merit of Mr,
Smith's work in point of originality. That his
doftrinc concerning the freedom of trade and o;f
induftry coincides remarkably with that which ^e
find in the writings of the French Oeconomifts,
appears from thq Qig]^ vi^vf* of th^ir fyftem which
he himfelf baa given, But it furcly cannot be prcr
tended by the wgrp:eft admirers of that fyfteiQ,
that any pn^ of its nu^ierou^ expofitors has ap-
proached to Mr, S^iT^ in the precifiq^ and per-
fpicuity with which he has Aated it, or i^ the fci-
entific and lun^inpus manner in whi^h he has de-
duced it from elementary principles. The awk-
wardnefs of their technical language, and the pa-
radoxical form in which they have chofen to pre-
fent fome qf th^ir opinionsb ar^ acknowledged
even by thofe who are moft willing to. do jufticc
to their merits ; whereas it may be doubted with
refpeft to Mr, Smith's Inquiry, if there exifts
^ny book beyond the circle of the mathematical
.and phyfical fciences, which is at once fo agreea-
ble in its arrangement to the rulesof afouQ^d logic,
and fo apceflible to the examination of ordinary
readers. Abftra&ing entirely from, the author's
peculiar and original fpeculations, I do not know,
that upon any fubjedl whatever, a work has been
produced in our times, containing fo methodical,
$b comprehenfive, and fo judicious a digeft of all

the

WAitiNcJs o^ DR. sMrra. , d

the moft profound and enlightened philofophy of
the age.

In joftice alfo to Mr. Smith, it muftbe obferv-'
ed, that although foine of the oeconomical writers
had the ftart of him in publiihing their doflrines to
the world, thefe doctrines appear, with refpeft to
him, to have becnaltc^cther original, and the rc-
fult of his own reflexions. Of this, I think, every
peribn muft be convinced, who reads the inquiry
with due attention, and is at pains to examine the
gradoal and beautiful progrefs of the author'^
ideas : But in cafe any doubt fhould remain on
this bead, it maybe proper to mention, that Mr.
Smith's political le<Stures, comprehending th©
fundamental principles of his Inquiry, were deli-
vered at Glafgow ad early as the year 1752 or
1753; at a period, furcly, when there cxtfted no
French perfbrmanoe on the fubjedl, that could be
of much ufe to him in guiding his refearches *. In
iheye^r 1756, indeed, M. Turcot (who is faid
. to have imbibed his firft notions concerning the
unlimited freedom of commerce from an old
merchant, M. Gournay) publifhed in the Ency^
clopidie^ an article which fufficiently ftiews how
completely his mind was emancipated from the

old

* In proof of tKis, it is fufficient for me to appeal to « a
fliort hiftorj of the progrefs of political oeconom/ in France,
publifhed in one of the volumes of Ephtmerida du C'ttoyen.
See the firft part of the volume for the /ear 1769. The pa«
per is entitled, Notice abregee det different Ecrits modernet, qui
wt CQflcouru $n France a former lajcience de Peconomie foBtique.

eil ACCOtINT OF THE LIFE ANI>

old prejudices in &voar of commercial regulations !
But that even theti, thefe opinions were confined
to a few fpeculatiyc men in France, appears froni
a paiTage iii the Mimoirts fur la Vie et les Otmra"
ges de M. Turgot ; itx which, after a ilibrt quo-
tation* from the article juft mentioned^ the author
adds : ^' Thefe ideas were tHen ^oHfideted as para-
'* doxical ; they are fince become common, and
** they will one .day b« adopted univerfally.'*'

The Political I>ifcourfe^ of Mr. Hume; were evi-
dently of greater ufe to Mr. SviiB, than any
iithet book that had appeared prior to his ledlores.
Even Mrl Hume's theories, Ijowever, though al-
ways, plauiible and ingeii^ioiis, and in iiidft in-
ilances profound and juft, inyolve fonle iiinda*
mental miflakes; and, when coifipared with Mr;
Ss^itH's, afford a ftriking proof, that, in confix
dering a {iibje6l fo extenfive and fo complicated,
ihe moil penetrating fagacity, if direded only to
particular queflions, is apt to be led aftray by firft
appearances ; and that nothing can guard us effec-
tually againft error, but a comprehenfive furvey
of the whole field of difcuffion, afflfted by an ac-*
curate and patient analyfis of the ideas about
which our reafoniags are employed.^^It may be
worth while to add, that Mr, Hume's Eflay " on
the Jealoufy of Trade/' with fomc other of his
Political Difcourfcs, received a very flattering
proofofM.TuRGOT^s approbation, by his under-
taking the tafk of tranflating tbem into the French
language*

lani

tVilllNGS OF DR. SMhra cUl.

1 am kware that the evidence I have hitherto
prodticed of Mr» Smithes otiginality may be ob-
jeded to a^ not pcrfedly decifiVe, is it refts en-
tirely on the recoUefiion of thofd ftudents who
attended his liril courfes df moral philofophy at
Olalgow; a recolledion which, ^t the diflance ol*
forty yeari, cannot be fnppofed to be yery accu«
rate- There exifts, however, fortunately, a fhort
iBaaufeript drawn up by Mr. StitiTH in the year
^755* ftEL<^ prcfented by him to a fociety of which
he was a member ; iii which paper, a pretty long
tanmeratioli is given of certain kading principles^
both political and literary, to ^^hich he was anx-
ious to eftablifli his exclufivc right ; in order to
prevent the poflibility of fome rival claims which
ht thought he had reafon to apprehend, and to
which his iituation as a ProfefTor, added to his un-
fdferved comnmnications in private companies,
rendered him peculiarly liable. This paper is at
prefeiit iri my pbfTefiion. It is expreffed with a
good deal of that honeft and indignant warmtl^
which is perhaps unavoidable by a man who is
C(Afeioui^ of the purity of his own intentions,
when he fufpefls; that advantages have been taken
of the franknefia^ of his temper. On fuch occaii*
6n% due allowances are not always made for thofe
plagiarifms which^ however cruel in their effefts^
do not neceflarily imply bad faith in thofe who
are guilty of them ; for the bulk of mankind, in*
capable themfelves of original thought, are per-
fectly unable to form a conception of the nature of
the i^jttf y done to a man of inventive genius, by

eacroaching

civ ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AWD

encroaching on a favourite fpeculation. For i^ca-
fons known to fome members of this Society, it
would be improper, by the publication of this
inanufcript, to revive the memory of private dif-
jFcreuces ; and I ftiould not have even alluded to it^
if I did not think it a valuable document of the
progrefs of Mr. Smith's political ideas at a very
early period. Many of the moft important opi-
nions in The Wealth of Nations are there detailed;
but I fhall quote only the following fentenccs:
** Man is generally confidered by ftatefmen and
^ projedors as the materials of a fort of political
** mechanics. Projeftors difturb nature in thd
" courfc of her operations in human affairs ; and
" it requires no more than to let her alone, and
" give her fair play in the purfuitof her ends, that
** fhe may eftablifh her own defigns." — ^And in
another paffage : " Little elfe is requifite to carry
" a ftate to the higheft degree of opulence from
** the loweft barbarifm, but peace, eafy taxes,
** and a tolerable adminiftration of juftice ; all the
" reft being brought about by the naturil courfe of
** things. All governments which thwart this na-
*^ tural courfe, which force things into another
** channel, or which endeavour to arreft the pro-
** grefs of fociety at a particular point, are unna-
^' tural, and to fupport themfelves are obliged to
" be oppreffive and tyrannical.— —A great part of
" the opinions (he obferves) enumerated in this
/* paper is treated of at length in fome Icftures
" which I have ftill by me, and which were writ-
'.* t^n in the hand of a clerk who left my ferVicc

"fix

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH. • t^

" fix ye^ra ago. They have all of them been the
** cohftant fubjeds of my Icdures fince I firft
"taught Mr. Craigie's clafs, the firft winter I
" fpent in Gla%ow^ down- to this day, without
" any coqfiderable variation. They had all of
" them been the fubjeds of lediures which I read
"at Edinburgh the winter before I left it, and I
" can adduce innumerable witneffes, both from
" that place and from this, who will afcertaiu
" them fuffieiendy to be mine*'*

After all, perhaps the merit of fuch k work as
Mr. Smith's is to be eftimated lefs from the no-
velty of the principles it contains, than from the
rcafonings employed to fupport thefe principles,
and from the fcientific manner in which they are
tinfolded in their proper order and conne<Sion*
General affertions with refpeft to the advantages
of a free commerce, may be collefted from vari-
ous writers of an early date. But in queftions of
fo complicated a nature as occur in , political oeco-
nomy, the credit of fuch opinions belongs of right
to the author who firft eftabliftied their folidity,
and followed them out to their remote confequenc-
a$; not to him who, by a fortunate accident, firft
ftumbleJ on the truth.

Befides the principles which Mr. Smith con-
fidered as more peculiarly his own, his Inquiry
exhibits a fyftematical view of the moft important
articles of political oeconomy, fo as to ferve the
purpofe of an elementary treatife on that very e^c-
g tenfive

94 AeCOOWT OF ifHt Liftfc Af«>

tenfir^ and difficult fcieacc- The ikiH and the
eooiprehenftvenefs of mmd difpiayed in hisar-*
rangaRient, <:an be judged of by thafc aloaac who
hftye oompai^d it with that adopted by his imme-
diate predeo^l&rs. And perhaps, in point of
utilit7> tbe labMr he has employed in conne&ing
and melhodiikig their Scattered ideas, is not lefs
^akabie t^an the refults of bis own original fpeeu-
lations : For it is only when digefted in a clear
and natural order, that 'truthe make their proper
impreflion on the mind, and that erroneous opi-
liions cap be combated with fuccefs.

It does not bdong to my prefent undertaking
(even if I were qualified for fuch a talk) to attempt
the {eparation of the folid and important doflrines
of Mr. Smith's book fVom thofe opinions which
appear exceptionable or doubtful. I acknow-
ledge, that there are fome of his conclufions to
which I would not be underftood to fubfcribe im-
plicitly; more particularly in that chapter, where
he treats of the principles of taxation, and which
is cerrainly executed in a manner more loofe and
unfatisfadory than the other parts of his fyftem.

It would be improper for me to conclude this
fe6iion without taking notice of the manly and
dignified freedom with which the author uniform-
ly delivers his opinions, and of the fuperiority
Ayhich he difcovers throughout, to all the little paf-
fions connected with the fadiions of the times in
which he wrote. Whoever takes the trouble to

eompzxc

cottipare the general tone of his compofitioii with
the period of its firft publication, cannot fail to
feel and acknowledge thcforce of this remarks-
It is not often that a difinterefted zeal for truth
has fo foon met with its juft reward. Philofophers
(to ufe an expreflLoa of LqrdxBfcoNjs) are " the
fervants of pofterity ;*' and moft of thofc who have
devoted. their talQnti3.tP ^e )be(l interefta jof int^*
•kind, have. beea. obliged, like lBAC^,^i, to "be-
queath their fame'^ lo^axa^e yxit, uabOiTn, jand to
coiafole themfelves with the idea .ftf fdwiog'.whJit
an^^her genaratloa was jto reap :

Infere Ddphni.^yrosy catptmf tu&ptmia Mfotts.

Mr, S M I i^H- wa^mofe fortutiate ; . or .rather,, iathis
refpeS, his fortune was -ilngulan Mc jfiiiisriyed
the publication of^ his woxk only fifteen years;
and yet, during that period, he. had nDt only the
&t46fa^iou of feeing the oppoiitioa it at firft ear-
cited, gradually fubfide, but to witnefs the- prac-
tical -iafluefiiGe of his writings on the oommexcikl
policy of his country.

g t SECTION ,

c^m ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

S E C T I O N V.

Conclufion of the Narrative*

About two years after the publication of
" The Wealth of Nations," Mr* Smith was ap-
pointed one of the Commiffioners of his Majefty-s
Cuftoms in Scotland ; a preferment which, in his
eftimation, derived an additional value from its
being beftowcd on him at the requeft of the Duke
of BuccLEVGH. The greater part of thefe two
years he pafled at London, in a fociety too extenfivc
and varied to afford him any opportunity of in-
dulging his tafte for ftudy. His time, however,
was not loft to himfelf ; for much of it was fpent
withfomeof the firft names in Engliih literature.
Of thefe no unfavourable fpecimen ispreferved by
Dr. Barnaud, in his well known " Vcrfes ad-
*^ drefled to Sir Joshua Reynolds and his
"friends."

If I have thoughts, and can't exprefs 'em.
Gibbon fhall teach me how to drefs'em

In words feleft and terfe :
Jo ^s teach me modefty and Greek,
Smith how to think, Bukk£ howtofpeak.

And Beauclerc to converfe*"^

I»

* See Anniul Re^^er for the year 1776.

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITR cb

. la confeqaence of Mr. Smith's appomtmcnt
to the Board of Cuftoms, he removed, in 1778, to
Edinburgh, Vhere he fpem the laft J twelve yeara
of his life ; enjoying an affluence whipH was more
than equal to all his wants ; and, what was to him
of ftill greater value, the profped of paifing thc^
remainder of his days among the coospwions of
his youth*

His mother, who, though now in extreme old
age, ftill pofTefied a confiderable degree of health,
and retained all her faculties unimpaired, aecom«
panied him to town; and his coufin Mifs ]xHir
Douglas, (who had formerly been a member of
his family at Glafgow, and for whom .he bad al-
ways felt the afie£iion of a brother,) while flie. di-
vided with him thofe tender attentions ^hich her
aunt's infirmities required, relieved him of a charge
for which he was peculiarly ill qualified, by her
friendly fuperinteudance of his doinofUc ceoo-^
Bomy.

The acceffion to his income which his new office
brought him, enabled him to gratify, to a much
greater extent than his former circumftances ad-
mitted of, the natural gcncrofity of his difpofiition 5
and the (late of his funds at the time of his death,
compared with his very moderate eftablilhment,
confirmed, beyond a doubt, what his intimate ac-*
qaaintances had often fufpe^led, that a large pro*
pordon of his annual favings was allotted to offices

9f

«»» Acexxmn or t«e hfe* and

^kmi^dkoEciiyh M fraaVl, butr evooUem libnlry,
iHiieS! be Had grapdtiaHy fonaad with grent yadgs
ffworin'ibe' ftlcftibu} wd a^fimpki tiiiongH'hoC
pmiUe't]^!^ where^ Withom the fbrraality of ao
ilxvitMiefi(, id wa$ aiw^a happy tt> rfeocwe hia
ifeSdi^J^ were the* ^ly ex^ajudts ttea: coiiikC bo
idnfida? «i ar kit owtt *, i

The chapge in his habits which his removal to
£&i£bft7{^ produced^ was not ei^ally £iYQiiral)le
tdi^ H» Ji(l€rary purfoits. The duties of his offwj;
thoQgltthey required botUttkescirtioii of thoughts
ivene*yet<fdfficieDtt6 wstftc his fpiritsasfed to dr^
^to Ui0' attention ; aad liow that his career ii
elei(bi^. k i»i«|boffible to refle(9[^oa the traie thef
cohfteuhedy without l^memtiDg, tHat it had not
bcch employed m labotrs mord profitable x^ tibo
wpiid^ aid mdib oq^Qfttu^ bis mrsBi*

. jDviri^g the ^ yeafsof hfs reiadencc in this ci-
ty, his ftudics feemed to be entirely fufpeuded ;
^iiid his paffion for letters ferved only to auiufd his
}^i^^,^ 9^ t0 aiH&jiatf bifrco^teriatioav The ivh

firmities!

* Soitoc very ail^ding. inftances of Mr. Skitr's benefi*
cence, in caiea 'where he found it impoi^&ble to conceal en-
titoly hit good offices, have b^en meniioned to me hy a near
reiatioh of his, and on^ofhis moil confidencial friends^ Miff
Rotts, dti(|liMr of thtlatc Patricia Rois^ Bfq% of Inner-
iMd^. Thdy vmt6 all on $L fcale ftiuch beyond whst might
K^ViB teftnrfrx^cdfedfpoiQjHS' fortune-, and were' acoompaaied
>ptth circumftances equall/ honourable to the, delicacy of hit
(feelings and tbfi Ub^ality of his heart*

WRITINGS or BR. BMBTH. «9l

fivmities of agcy ^f whieh he. very^arly began- 10
ieel the approjiches^ reiodnded him at lafty wheil
it: was too late^. of what he y<st owed* to thc^pubfio^
and to his own^ fame. The principal siatemle of
the works which he had an&ounoed^ had- heeil
long ago collided ; and little probably was want*
in^ but a few years of health and retiremeAty to
beftow on them that fy fteBaatical anrangement ill
which he delighted ; aind the ornaments of that
fl&wiag, and apparently artlefs- ftyle, Which k^
had ftudioufly cultivated, but which, afbr all hit
experience in copipofition, he adjuAed, wi^ exi
tfeitoe difiioulty, to his own tafte *,

The death of his mother in 1784, which was
followed by that of Mifs Douglas in 1788^
«ontributed> it is probable, to frufirate thefe pro*
^oSLSf They had been the obje^s of his afib^ion

fojv

^ Ms. SMrrH obftrved to me, aot k>it|r.bffer6 his dotl^
Aat after all hi» praAice ux waiting, he oortip4ttd as-iUirij;
and 'With as great difficulty, a^ at iirft. He added, at the
lame time, that Mr. Hvmx had acquired £0 graat a facility ia
this refpeft, that the laft volumes of his hiftory were print-
cd from his otigiual copy, lyith a few margiixi^l cbtt^ion^*

It v^j gratify the curiofity of fome readers to biow, tW
when Mr. Smith was employed in compofition, he generally
walked up and down his apartment, di6tating to a fecretaij.
^11 MV. Hume's works (I have Been* allured) wef^ \»rit-
tea mtk hi» own' haiid. A crffical riaedefe' mtfy, t thkS(
pecoeive ki the diferent ftyle* of tbcfe v^ dafikabMhaH
the eSeda of theix differeat modef of ftudy.

Virii ACCOITNT OF THE LITE AND.

for more than fixty years; and in their fociety
he had enjoyed, from his infency, all that he
ever knew of the endearments of a family. He
was now alone, and helplefs; and, though he
bore his lofs with equanimity, and regained ap-
parently his former cheerfulnefs, yet his health
and flrength gradually declined till the period of
his death, which happened in July 1790, about
two years after that of his coufin, and fix after
that of his mother. His laft illnefs, which arofe
from a chronic obft-ruftion in his bowels, was
lingering and painful ; but had every confolation
to footh it which he could derive from the tender-
ed fympathy of his friends, and from the com*
plete rcfignation of his own mind,

• A few days before his death, finding his end
approach rapidly, he gave orders to deftroy all
his manufcripts, excepting fome detached eflays,
which he entrufted to the care of his executors;
^nd* they were accordingly committed to the
flames. What were the particular contents of
thefe papers, is not known even to his moft inti-
mate friends; but there can be no dopbt that
they confided, in part, of the le6J;ures on rheto-
ric, which he read at Edinburgh in the year 1748,
and of the leisures on natural religion and on ju-
rifprudencc, which formed part of his courfe at
Glafgow. That this irreparable injury to lettera
proceeded, in fome degree, - from an exceifive fa-,
Ucitude in the author about his pofihumous repu«>

tation^

WRITINGS OF DK. SMITH. cidU

tation, may perhaps be true; but with rcfpcft to
fome of his manufcripts, may we not fuppofc,
that he was iufiuenced by higher motives ? It is
bat feldom that a philofopher, who has been oc-
cupied from his youth with moral or with politi-*
cal enquiries, fucceeds completely to his wifh ia
fiating to others, the grounds upon which his
Qwn opinions are founded; and h^nce it is, that
the known principles of an individual, who has
approved to the public his candour, his liberality,
and his judgment, arc entitled to a weight arid
an authority, independent of the evidence which
he is able, upon any particular occafion, to pro-»
ducc in their fupport. A fecret confcioufnefs of
this circumftance, and an apprehenfion, that by
not doing juftice to an important argument, the
progrefs of truth may be rather retarded than ad-
vanced, have probably induced many authors ta
with-hold from th€ world the unfiniflied refults of
their moil valuable labours ; and to content them-
felves with giving the general Iknftion of their
fuflFrages to truths which they regarded as peculi^
firly intereftin^ to the human race *,

Tho

♦ Since writing the above, 1 have been favoured hj Dr,
Hi7TTOK with the following particulars :

** Some time before his laft illnefs, when Mr. Smith had
<)ccafion to go London, he enjoined his friends, to whom he
had entrufted the difpofal of his manuf<;ripts, that in the event
qi his death, thej IhouU deftro/ all the volumes of his lee**

tures^

€»bf^ ACCOUNT OF THE USE AMD

Tht additions tt> the Theory of Moral SeHtU
xmm&i mo& of whkh were compofed under fevere
difc&fe, had fortunately been fent td tH p^efs iA
the begk&amg df the preceding winter; axid the
Wthor Uved to fee thQ publication of th^ work.

The

mtrr, dding vMi tike reR of hirnMiimlbrfpfs wbat lAejr plaf'
cd; WlktfA novr he had become weak» and faw di« appTt>adi»
i9g p9ri«id of Ifi^ lifr^ ho fpok^ to hi^* £rie&db> agfuti upon tke
&sf& fubjeft Thej entreatod him to make his mtfid ead)v ^9
he might depend upon their fulfilling ]>is defire. He was
then faiisiied. But fome days afterwards, finding His anxiet/
iTot endrelf remoTed, hr begged one of tkem to deftroy die
v^foioMf ioHHicdiately. Thn aecordiagljr imydoat;- aitdhii
mad was for«ttcb*x)elieTed, chat he wa« able to vouSfirtflan
f^Mhdz iu the- evening wi^ kis: )4ual compU^ncj*

^ They had been in ufc to fup with him every Sunday; and
tkit tv^ningf there i^at a pretty numerous meetin>g of them*
fibi SmTX'not finding hid^elf able to fit up with thent 4if yfu«
ajvixtlsed. to bed. before iupper; an^ a^ he iveat iweT> ^^
leave of his fnends by faixingt * ^ beUeve we muft adjourn this
inecting to fome pther place/ He d}ed 9; vcy^ few day^ aftcr^
Vards«**

Mr. KxppsLL, an intimate friend of Mr. Smith's, who
-VfM prefent at one of the converfations on the fubjedl of the
vianufcripts, fnentioned to me, in addition to Dr. Hutton's
note, that Mr. Smith regretted, ** he had done fo little."
^* But I meant (faid he) to have done more ; and there are
inaterials in my papei^, of which I could have made n great
deal But thai is now out of the cjuefiion/'

That the idea of dellr;;ying fuch unifnifhed work's as might
lie in Mi pofftffipn at the time of Kis death, was not the t^

^ of

WfiJt&fQS-Of fin. SMITH.

^he nidftl attdfericmi^ ftmn thatpfctailsibroTigb
tliefc additions, \v4ien connefied with thecireum-r
ABntet$f of kik declining health, adds a poculiai^

ehafm

of any fudden or haftj rqfolutiao^ appears from t)ie following
letter to Mr. Hums, written by Mc. Smith in 1773, at a
time when he was preparing himfelf for a j urney tj London,
y^hh the profpeifl of a pretty IttAg abfence fvum 9cedaa4*

iSfY DEAR ^RUND, Mdititurgh, \6ih Jprll 1^73.

As I liftve left the cs^ of all my licerazy papers* to you,. X

muft tell you,, that except thofe which I carry along with me^

there are none wordi the publication, but a {ragment of a greaf

^ort, which contains a h1i(ory' of the aft'ronomtcal iyilems

ihat were fhccefl^ely m faihiaxk <bwB to the thnd of Dbs

Ca & tx ». WhKbet that ihight noc h^ publiibed as a fragipenf

of an intended juTenile wofk> I leave eotiteiy to your judg«

ment, though I begin to fiifped myfelf that there is more re*

finement than iblidity in fume parts of it. Thi^ little work

you will find in a thin folio paper book in my back rooM. All

the other loofe papefs Xwhich you will find in thaft dcflc, or

Within the glafs folding doors- of a bureau which fbandt iu my

bed^rcom, together with about eig}iteen thin paper folio booksj

which you ynA. likewif<f find within the iame gji^fs folding

doors^ I deiire may be deftroyed without any examination.

Unlefs I die very fuddenly, 1 fhall take care that the papers \

carry with me ihall be carefully fent to you.

I* ever «d, my dear Friend^ noft &ichfuUy your's,

Adam Siiit»5

T« Davzo Ho MB, ISxy
Si* Andrew's Square.

am ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND

^harm to his pathetic eloquence, and communi-
cates a new intcreft, if pofliblc, to thofe fublime
truths, which, in the academical retirement of
Jiis youth, awakened the firft ardours of his ge-
. Xiius, and on which the laft efforts of his mind
fepofed,

In a letter addrcflcd, in the year 1787, to the
Principal of the Univerfity of Glafgow, in con-
fequence of being elcfted Reftor of that learned
bgdy, a pleafing memorial remains of the fetis-
faftion with which he always rccolleded that pe-
riod of his literary career, which had been more
peculiarly confecrated to thefe important ftudics.
** No preferment (fay$ he) could have given mc fd
^^ much real fatisfa^^ioo. No man c^n owe great-^
^* cr obligations to a fociety than I do to the Uni-
•* verfity of Glafgow. They educated mc; they
^* fcnt me to Oxford. Soon after my return to
^* Scotland, they ele6i;ed me one of their own
V members ; and afterwards preferred me to ^no-
^* ther office, to which the abilities and virtues of
^* the never to be forgotten Dr. Hutcheson had
<* given a ftiperior degree of illuftration. The
*' period of thirteen year^ which I fpent as a
*' member of tl^at fociety, I remember as by far
** the moft ufeful, and therefore as by far the
♦* happieft and moft honourable period of my life;
** a|id now, after three and twenty years abfence,
^^ to be remembered in fo very agreeable a man-
^* ner by my old friends and protedlors, gives

" mc

. WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH.- ovii

*^ me a- heart-felt joy which I. cannot eafily exprefe
**^ to you,'' ^

The fliort narrative which I have now finifhed,
however barren of incident, may convey a gene-
rad idea of the genius and cjbaradler of: this illuf-
uious Man. Of the intelle6lual gifts and aUain-
mcnts by which he was fo eminently diftinguilh-
cd;— of the originality and comprehcnfivenefs
of his views; the extent, the variety, and the
Gorre&nefs of his information; the inexhauftible
fertility of his invention ; and the ornaments
which his rich and beautiful imagination had bor-
rowed from claffical culture ; — ^he has left behind
him iafting monuments. To his private worth
the moil certain of all teftimonies may be found
in that confidence, refpedl, and attachment,
which followed him through all the various rela-
tions of life. The ferenity and gaiety he enjoy-
ed ^ under the preflfure of his growing infirmities,
and the warm iutereft he felt to the laft, in every
thing conne&ed with the welfare of his friends,
will be long remembered by a fmall circle, with
whom, as long as his ftrength permitted, he re-
gularly fpent an evening in the week ; and to
whom the recoUedion of his worth flill forms a
pleafing though melancholy bond of union.

The more delicate and chara&eriftical features
of his mind, it is perhaps impoflible to tracp.
That there were many peculiarities, both in lys

manner.

t^Mi ACeotolt OF ^HE LBPBt AN0

^wanner, and in his intcUcSual habits, was ma-
nifcft to the moft fuperficial dbfervcr; b,ut al-
though, to thofe who knew him, thcfe peculiari-
tiee detraded nothing fronl the refpe^ ^Vhich his
abilities eommanded ; tod kkhough, to hife inti-
*iBa«e friends, they added an inexpr^ifible charm
-to his cotiveHation, while they difpla^ycd, in the
-mdl inteFefting light, the •rtlefs^mplicity of his
^heart ; yet it would require a very tkilfol pencil
to pfefent jthem to the public eye. He was cer-
taiinlynotfitted for the general commerce of the
•worW, or for the bufinefs of aftive life. The
eomprehenfive fpeculations with Which he had
beeCL oocapied from bis youth, and the variety of
materikls which his oWn invention continually
fupplied to his thoughts, rendered him habitually
inattentive to familiar objeiSis, and lo common
occurrences ; and he frequently exhibited inftan*
ces of abfencc, which have fcarecly been lurpaff-
ed by the fancy of La Bru yehe. Even in com-
pany, he was apt to be ingrofled with his ftudics;
and appeared, at times, by the motion of his
lips, as well as by his looks and geftures, to be
in the &rvour of compofition. I have oftcn^ how-
ever, been ftruck, at the diftance 6f yeaics, with
his accurate memory of the moft trifling particu^
lars ; and am inclined to believe, from this and
fome other circumftances, that he pofTefled a pow-
er, not perhaps uncommon among abfent men,
of recollefting, in confcqucnce of fubfequ«t
efforts of refleftion, manytxrcurrcnces which, -at

the

witrrmes of rat- suits, c<k

iht time whea they ji^p^ned, did not fwax to
have feniibly attra<fted his aotice*

To the dt£t& bow mentioned, it wisprobaaly
owing, m part, that he 4id not fall in eafily with
tht eonimoa dialogue of eoavorfai^on, and tliat
he wa9 ibcn^wlutt apt -to convey > hie owa ideas «a
the fiNrn;^ 4](f h lefWre. When he did ib^ how^
ever, it never proceeded from -a wiih to ingroft
the difcourfe, or to gratify his vanity. His own
iQcliaation difpoied hioi ib ftrongly to ei^y in
filence the gaiety of thofe arou&d him^ that ht4
iriendB were often led to ^concert little fehefliea,
in ocder to bring him on the &bje£is moft iikely
to inteicft him. Nor do I thi&k I ihall be aceuC-
ed of going too far, when I fay, that he waa
fcarcely ever known to ftart a new topic himfelC
or to appear unprepared upon thofe topks thflt
were introduced by others. Indeed, his conver-
btion wa5 never more amufing thiui when he gave
I loofe to his genius, upon the very few branched
of knowledge of which he only poiiTei^d theou^ ,
lilies.

The opinions he formed of men, upon a flight
acquaintance, were frequently erroneous; but the
tendency of his nature inclined him much more
to blind partiality, than to ill-founded prejudice.
The enlarged views of human affairs, on which
his mind habitually dwelt, left him neither time
&or inclination to (ludy, in detail, the uninteref-

ting

ti% ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AN»

ling peculiarities of ordinary chara^ers ; and ac«
cordingly, though intimately acquainted with th^
capacities of the intelledi^ and the workings of
the heart, and accuftomed, in his theories^ to
mark^ with the moft delicate hand, the niceft
ihades, both of genius and of the paflions j yet,
in judging of individuals, it fometimes happened,
that his eftimates were, in a furpri&ng degree,
wide of the truth.

The opinions, to6, which, ib the thoughtlefT-
nefs and confidence of his focial hours, he was
acouftomed to hazard on books, and on quefiions
of fpeculation, were not uniformly fuch as might
have been expedied from the fuperiority of his
underftanding, and the fingular confifleney of his
philofophical principles. They were liable to be
influenced by accidental circumftances, and by
the humour of the moment ; and when retailed
by thofe who only faw him occafionally, fuggeft-
cd falfe and contradidlory ideas of his real fenti-
Bients. On thefe, however, a^ on moft other
occafions, there was always much truth, as well
as ingenuity, in his remarks ; and if the different
opinions which, at different times, he pronounc-
ed upon the' fame fubjed^, had been all combined
together, fo as to modify and limit each other,
they would probably have afforded materials for
a decifion, equally comprehenfive and juft. But,
in the fociety of his friends, he had no difpoii-
tion to form thofe qualified conclufions that we

admire

WRITINGS OF DIL SMITH. . csxt

admire m.his writings; add he generally content-
ed himfelf with a bold and maflerly fketch of the
abjeft, from the firft point of view in which his
temper, or his fancy, prefented it- oomcthing
of the fame kind might be ren^arked, when he
auempied, in the flow of his Ipirits, to delineate
ihofe charai^ers which, from long intimacy, he
might have beea fappofedto underftand thorough-
ly. The pi^ure was always lively, and expref-
live; and commonly bore a ftrong and amufing
relemblance to the original, when viewed under
one particular afped ; but feldom, perhaps, con^^
ycyed a juft and complete conception of it

ia all its climcnfions and proportions.^ In a

word, it was the fault of his unpremeditated
judgments, to be too fyfiematicaU and too much
ia cxtrcmesv

But, in whatever way theife trifling peculiarities
in his manners may be explained, there can be
no doubt, that they were intimately connefted
with the genuine artleffnefs of his mind. In this
amiable quality, he often recalled to his friends,
the accounts that arc given of good La Fon-
taine; a quality which in him derived a pecu-
liar grace from the Angularity of its combination
with thole powers of reafbn and of jcloquence
^hicb, in his political and moral writings, have
long engaged th^ admiratioa of Europe.

In

•xxil ACCbtTNT bt lUfe LIKE ANl5

In his external form and appearance, tficre wat
Nothing uncommon- When pcrfcftly at eaft,
an<J when warmed with convcrfation, his gef-
tures Svere animated, atid A6t ungraceful; and,
in the focifety of thc^fe he loved, his features were
often brightehcd with a fmile of ine^reifible be-
nigiiity. In tht company 6f ft rangers, his ten-
dency to abfcliC6, and perhaps ftill more his con-
fcioufnefs ttf this tfcndcncy, rendered his inanner
fomcwhat embarraflfedj-^an effeft which Was pro-
bably not a littte heightened by thofe fpeculativc
ideas of propriety, which his rechife habits tend-
ed at once to perfe£^ in his conception, and to di-
Sriiniih his power of realizing. He never lat for
his pifture; but the medallion of Tassie con-
"veys an cXaft Idea of hik profile, atid of the ge-
neral exprei&on of his countenance^

iThfe valuable library that hfc h^ tollefted he
bequeathed, together with the reft of his proper-
ty, to his coufin Mr. David DotJOLAs, Advo-
cate. In the education of this ywmg gentleman,
he had employed much of his Icifure ; and it was
only tWo years before his death, (at a time when
lie could ill fpare the pleafure of his focicty,) that
he had fent him to ftttdy law at Glafgow, under
'the care of Mn Millar; — ^the ftrongeft proof
he could give of his difinterefted zeal for the im-
provement of his friend, as well as of the eftcem
in which he held the abilities of that eminent
Profeffon

The

WRITINGS OF DR. SMITH* «xai

The executors of his will were Dr. Black and
t)r. HuTTON; with whom he had long lived in
habits of the moft intimate and cordial friend-
ftiip; and who, to the many other teftimonies
which they had given him of their affeAion, ad-
ded the mournful office of witnefling his laft mo*
ments.

hi

WHICH LXAO AND DIRSCT

PHLQSOPHICAI^ ENQJJIRIESj

ILLUjfTHACCI By THU

PISTORY OF ASTRONOMY,

sfenese9BafedaESBE3»K9Btsn=Ki

THB

HISTORY ..\

OF

I '

ASTHONOMY.

iV^ONDEH, Surprife, aod Admiration, arc
vord9 whicb^ ()iougl) often confounded, de^
ju>te, in our language, fentiments that are in-
deed allied, but that are in fonie refpedls difie-
l«m alfo, and dtilin^ froqa oaq another. What
is new aQd fingular, excites that fentiment which,
in ftria propriety, is called Wondey } what is
unexpeded, Surprife; and what is great or
))eautiful. Admiration,

We wonder at all extraordinary and uncom-
mon ol:t}ed8, at all the rarer phaenomena of na-
ture, at meteors, comets, eclipfes, at fingular
plants and animals, and at every thing, in ihort,
with which we have before been either little
.^ not at all aequainted ; aad we ftill wonder,
tlkough foifewariu»l of wbftt we are to fee*

We

S^ HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

Wc ar^ furprifed at thpfc things which w^
have feen often, but which we leaft of all ex-
pefled to meet with in the place where we find
them; we are furprifed at the fudden appear-
ance of a friend, whom we have feen a thoufand
times, but whom we did not imagine we were tq
fee then.

We admirp the beaigy o^j)^^^^
' nefs of a mountain,^ though we have feen both
often before, ^and though nothing appears to us
in either, but what we had expeded with cey*
tainty to fee.

Whether this criticifm upon the prccife meaur
ing of thefe words-be juft, is of little importance.
I imagine it is juft, though I acknowledge, that
the beft writers in our language have not aU
ways made ufe of them according to if. Milton,
upon the appearance of Death to Satan, faya,
that

The Fiend what, thi^ ought \)e adqilrVli
Admir'd, not fear'd.— — •

But if this criticifm be juft, the proper expref*
fion ftiould have been wondtr^d. — Dryden, upon
the difcovery of Iphigenia ileeping, fays, that

The fool of nature ftpod with ftupid c^es
And gaping mputh, that teiUfied furprife.

But what Cimon muft have felt upon this occa-^
fion could not fo much be Surprife, as Wonder

and

HISTORY OF A6TRONOMY. | ^

aad Admiration, All that I contend for is,
that the fentiments excited by what is new, by
what is unexpeded, and by what is great and
beautiful, are really different, however the words

made ufe of to exprefs them may fometimes be _, -

Cpnfounded. Even the admiration which is ex- l^cdt^U^
cited by beauty, is quite different (as will appear'^^^y^^^
more fully hereafter) from that which is infpired^4H^/t/^4?j^
by greatnefs, thpugli we have but one word to;^A.^^ra)C
denote them, iyunuda.^)-

Thefe fentiments, like all others when iufpir*-
ed by one and the fame objeft, mutually fupport
and enliven one another: an objed with whiph
we are quite familiar, and which we fee every
day, produces, though both great and beauti-
ful, but a foiall effedi upoa us ; becaufe our ad-
miration is not fupported either by Wonder or
by Surprife: and if we have heard a very ac-
curate defcription of a monfter, our Wonder wiU
be the lefs when we fee it ; becaufe our previous
Jcnowledge of it will in a great meafure preveAt
our Surprife,

It is the defign of this Eflay to confider par-
ticularly the nature and cauf(?s of each of thefe
fentiments, whofe influence is of far wider ex«
tent than we Ihould be apt upon a carelefs view
to imagine. I flxall begin with Surprife.

SECTION

$ HISTOR? Of A«TRONOMTf

SECTION I.

I

Of the EffeS of Vnexp^Bcdnefiy or of Surprifi.

\V HElf w objed of aoy kind, which has bcca
for fome time expedec) and forefeen^ prefents
jtfelf, whatever be the emotion which it is by
nature fitted to excite, the mind muft have been
prepared for it, and muft even in fome nieafure
have conceived it before-h&nd ; becaufe the idea
of the objeft having been fo long prcfent to it,
tnuft have before-hand excited fome degree of
the fame en^otion which th^ objeft itfelf would
excite: the change, therefore, which its pre-
fence produces comes thus to be lef^ confider-
able, and the emotion or paffioa which it excites
glides gradually and eaiiiy into the hearty withT
<mt violence, pain, or difficulty^

But the contrary of all this happens when
the objeft is unexpefted; the paffion is then
poured in all at once upon the heart, which is
thrown, if it is a ftrong paffion, into the moft
violent and convulfive emotions, fuch as fomc-
times caufe immediate death ; fometimes^ by the
fuddennefs of the extacy, fo entirely disjoint the
whole frame of the imagination, that it never
after returns to its former tone and compofure,

but

HISTORY OF AgTHOMDMT. f

but Mis either iotp 4 fra^^y or lubkual lunacy;
and fuch as almofl always occafion. a mQmentury
lofs of reafon, or of that attention to other things
which pTir iitwtiou -of ^^r ^uty requires.

How mjuch we drevJ jh^ eiSfe^s of the inpr«
violeat paffions, whea they come fuddcnly upPB
the xfiind, appears frpm jhofc preparations which
all men think neceilary when gOiQg tp isfiproft
any one of what is capable of exciting them.
Who wQuld chooftp ^11 at pnc^ to inforoi his
friend of a^ c?tr?iordinary citl^mity that had be-
fallen him, without taking care hefore-haud, by
alarming him with an nnc^rtaia fear» to. an^
Bounce, if Q^e miay fay fo, his mi^fortun^, and
thereby prepari? aad difpofc him fpr r^f:eiying
the tidings?

Thofe panic terrors which fom^times fcizc ar*-
mies in the fi^ld, or great cities, when an enemy
is in the neighbourhood, and which deprive for
a time the moft determined of all deliberate judg-
ments, are never excited but by the fudden ap*
prehenfion of unexpefled danger. Such violent
conftemations, which at once confound whole
multitudes, benumb their underfls^ndings, and
agitate their hearts, with all the agony of extrar
vagant fear, can never be produced by any
forefeen danger, how great fipiever. Fear, tho*
naturally a very ftrong paflion, n^ver rifcs to
fuch exceflies, unlefs exafpcrated both by Won*
der, from th^.UBce;:^^ M^urc q^ thfi danger,

an(|

I HISTORY OF ASTRONOMT*

and by .Surprife, from the fuddennefs of the
ipprehenfion,

Surprife, therefpre, is not to be regarded a« a^
prigiDal emotion of a fpecies diftinft fi'oni al|
others. The violent and fudden change prp«
duced upon the mind, when an emotion of anj
kind is brought fuddenly upon it, conftitutes the
whole nature of Surprifct

But when not only a paflion and a gre^t paff
fion comes all ^t once upon the mind, but wheiz
it comes upon i% while the mind is \n the mood
molV unfit for conceiving it, the Surprife is
then the greateft, Surprifes of joy when the
pnnd is fiink into grief, or of grief when it is
elated with joy, are therefore the n^oft ^nfup-
portable. Th^ change is in this c^fe the j^r^ateft
poflible. Not only a ftrong paflion is conceived
all at once, but a ftrong paffion the dire^ oppo?
fite of that which was before in poflefiiQn of the
foul. When a load of forrow comes down upon
the heart that is expanded and elated with gaiety
and joy, it feems not only to damp and opprefs
it, but almoft to crufh and bruilb it, as a real
weight would crulh and bniife the body. Oa
t'he contrary, when from an unexpefied change
of fortune, a tide of gladnefs feems, if I may fay
fo, to fpring up all at once within it, when de-
preffed and contra£led with grief and forrow,
it feels as if fuddenly extended and heaved up
with violent and irrefiftible force, and is torn

witlj

illSTORY OF ASTRONOMY. 9

iiritli pftngs of all others moft exquifite, and
which almofl always occafion faintings, deli-
riums, and fometimes inflant death, f^orit tn^j
be worth while to obferve, that though grief be
a more violent paflion than joy, as indeed all
uneafy fenfations feem naturally more pungent;
than the oppofite agreeable ones, yet of the twoy
Surprifes of joy are ftill more infupportable thaa
Surprifes of grief. We are told that after the
battle of Thrafimenus^ while a Roman lady,
nvho had been informed that her fon was flaia
in the a£lion> was fitting alone bemoaning her
misfortunes, the young man who efcaped came
fuddenly into the room to her, and that fhe
cried out and expired inflantly in a tranfport of
joy. Let us fuppofe the contrary of this to have
happened, and that in the midft of domeilic fef-
tivity and mirth, he had fuddenly fallen down
dead at her leet, is it likely that the effeds
Vr'ould have been equally violent? I imagine not*
The heart fprings to joy with a fort of natural
elallicity,. it abandons itfelf to fo agreeable an
emotion, as foon as the obje£l is prefented ; it
feems to pant and leap forward to meet it, and
the pafGon'in its iull force takes at once entire
and complete pofleifibn oi the fouL But it is
otherways with grief; the heart recoils from^
and refills the firA approaches of that difagree-
able paiEon, and it requires fome time before-
the melancholy ohjeGt can produce its full cScSt.
Grief comes on flowly and gradually, nor ever
rlfcs at once to that height of agony to which

it

lo HISTORY OP AgTHONOMt-

it is incrcafccf after a little time. Btit j'oy domes
rufhing upon us all at once like a tdfrent. The
change produced therefore by a Surprilfe of* joy
is more fudden, and upon rhat account more
violent and apt to have nKJre f^al' effe<3s, than
tliat which is occafioned by a Surprife of grief;
there feems too to be Ibmething^ in the nature
of Surprife, which makes it Unite more eafilj
with the brilk and^ quick motion ctf joy, than
with the flower and heavier rtiovement of* grief.
Moft men who can take the trouble to recollefl,
will find that they have heard of more people
who died or became diftrafted with fudden joy,
than with fudden grief. Yet frbm the nature of
humati aflfeirs, the lattet muft be much more fre-
quent than the former. A mati may break his
legi or lofe his fon, though he has had no warn-
ifig of either of thefe events, but he can hardly
meet with" an extraordinary piece of good for-
tune, without having had-fome forefight of what
was to happen.

Not only grief and joy jjut all the other paf-
fions, are more violent, when oppofite extreme*
fiicceed each other; Is any refentment fo keen
as what fbllows the quarrels of lovers, or any
love fo paflionate as What' attends their recon- .
cilement?

Even the objefts of the external fenfes affeft
us in a more lively manner, when oppofite ex-
tremes fucceed to, or are placed .befide each

other.

HlStORT OF ASTRONOMY. it

Other, Moderate warmth feems intolerable heat
if felt after extreme cold. What is bitter wiH
feem more fo when tafted after what is very
fweet ; a dirty white will feem bright and pure
when placed by a jet black. The vivacity in
ihort of tvtry fenfation, as well as of every
fcntiment, feems t6 be greater or lefs in propor-
tion to Ihe change made by the impreffioh of
cither upon the fitiiation of the mind or oifgan ;
but this change mull neceffarily be the greateft
when oppofite fentiments and fenfations are eon*
trafted, ot fucceed immediately to one another.
Both fentiments and fenfations are then the lire-
licft ; and this fuperior vivacity proceeds from
nothing but their being brought upon the mind
or organ wheti in a ftate moft unfit for conceiv-
ing them.

As the oppofition of contrafted fentiments
heightens their vivacity, fo the refemblance of
Aofe which immediately fucceed each other ren-
ders them more faint and languid. A parent
who has loft feveral children immediately after
one another, will be lefs affeded with the death
of the laft than with that of the firft, though
the lofs in itfelf be, in this cafe, undoubtedly
greater; but his mind being already funk into
forrow, the new misfortune feems to produce
no other effe£l than a continuance of the fame
meUncholy, and is by no means apt to occafion
fuch tranfports of grief as are ordinarily excited
kf the £i!ll calamity of the kind ; he receives it,

though

U HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY*

thongh with great dejedlion, yet with feme de-
gree of calaiuefs and compofure, and without
aay thing of that anguifh and agitation of mind
which the novehy of the misfortune is apt to
Occafion. Thofe who have been unfortunate
through the whole courfe of their lives are of-
ten indeed habitually melancholy, and feme-
times peevifh and fplenetic, yet upon any freih
difappointment, though they are vexed and
complain a little, they feldom fly out into any
more violent paffion, and never fall into thofe
tranfports of rage or grief, which often, upon
the like occafions^ diftra& the fortunate and
fuccefsfuL

Upon this are founded, in a great nieafure,
fome of the efieAs of habit and cullom. It is
well knoWh that cuflom deadens the vivacity
of both pain and pleafure, abates the grief we
fliould feel for tlie one, knd weakens the joy
we fhould derive from the other. 'The pain is
fupported without agony, knd the pleafure en-
joyed without rapture : becaufe cuftom and the
frequent repetition of any ohjcSt comes at laft
to form and i)end the mind or organ to that ha^
bitual mood and difpofition which fits them to
receive its impreffion, without undergoing any
very violent change.

SfiCTION

ttlStORY OF AStkONOMT^ 13

s E c T I o N n.

0/ Wonder, or of the tffcSi of Novelty.

IT IS evident that the mind taked )>leafure iu
obfervidg the fefethbrances that aire dircoverabld
betirixt different objcfls. It is by means of fuch
obrervatioas that it cndeaVonrs td arrange and
methodife all its ideas, tod to deduce them into
proper claiTes and affoftments. Where it can
bbrerve but one fingle quality, that is comtnonto
a great variety of otherwife widely different ob*
jeds, that fingle circumfiance will be fufficient
for it to conde£l them ill together, to reduce
them to one common clals, and to callthem by
One general name. It is thus that ^11 things en-
dowed with a power of felf-motion, beafts, birds,
fi{hes, infeAs, are clafTed under the general
name of Animal; and thit thefe again, along
with thofe which want that power, are arranged
under the ftill more general word Subilance : and
tbis is the origin of thofe aiforttnents of objeSs
and ideas which in the fchools ai'e called Genera
and Species, and of thofe abftraA and genial
names, which in all languages are made ^fe of
to exprefs them. '

The further we advance in k^owledg^ and
^zperiencci th« greaier number of divifions and *
C fabdivifiws

14 IBSTOHir OF ASTRONdMVu

fubdivifions of thofc Genera and Species we are
both inclined and obliged to make. We ob-
fcrve a greater variety qf particularities amoDgft
thofe things which have a grofs refemblance ;
and having made new diyifions of them, . ac-
cording to thofe newly-abferved particularities,
we are then no longer to be fatisfied with being
able to refer an objeA to a remote genus, or
very general clafs of things,, to many of which
it has but a loofe, and imperfed refemblance.
A perfon, indeed, unacquainted with botany
may expeft to fatisfy your curiofity, by telling
you, that fuch a vegetable is a.weed, or, per-
haps iA flill more general terms, that it is a
-plant.,. But a botanift will neither give nor ac-
cept of fuch an anfwer. He has broke, and di<*
yidcd that great clafs of . objedls intfll a number
of iAfqrior affortments, according to thofe va*
rieti^s which his experience, has difcovered
amon^ themj and he wants to refer, each indiia\
iual plant to fome. tribe of vegetable3v with all
of which it; might have a more e3ȣl refem*
blance,. than with m^xiy ^hings comprehended
under the, extenfive, genus of plants, , A child
imaginpSi that it jglyes a fa^^faflo/y anfwer when
it tells yqq,: that an ob)e^. whof^^. name it knows
iLOt i3 a th|ng,^ ajad. £a&9ffs that it informs you
of fooieichiag, when it thus^afcertains to whicli
of the two mod obvious and compreheafiyc>claf-
fes of objeds a particular impreflion ought to
bc.jrcfejprsdi- .tp ^e^ claf» pf l;caJiti^.^or..folid

HI8T01LT OF ASTRONOMT. ^|

fubftanccr Which it calls things, or to that of ajH
pearaaees wliich it calk nothings.- ' ^ '

Whatever, in Ihort, dccurs to us <^c are fbnd
of refcrrifig to fonfie fpecies ot clafs of tilings,'
with all of which it has a nearly cxadl 'rcfem-'
blancQ; arid though we often know* no morie'
about them than about it, yet we are apt to fan-
cy that by being able to do fo; we ftiow our-
felves to • be^ better acquainted with it, and to
have a more thorough infight into its nature. But
when fomcthing quite- new and fingiilat is pre/
fented. We fed ourfelves incapable of doing-this.
The memory cannot, from all its-ftores, cafrup
any image that nearly refembles this ft range ap-»
pearance. ' If by fome df Trar^qualities it feems*
to refembU,- and to be connefted with a Tpiecies
which we have before- been acquainted^ with, it^
is by others fejiarated, and ''detached from- that,
and from all the other aflbttmerits 6f things we'
have hitherto been able to make. It ftands alone
and byitfelf^inthe iinagihatioh, and refufes to
be grouped or confouncfcd' with a6yT<?t^<irbb-'
jefts whatcvei*^ The imaginatioh And mempfty'
exert tbemletVes to no purpofei and in vihi16bk:^
around 'all tfcfcir claffes of idefeis in ordfcr td fiiici^
one underwhith it maybe arranged. I7heyl3ud-

tuate idn^ *purp^fe» froifri ^Bough^ ^to* tKoWht,
and wtt temdin ffill wocerta'M %hd HinBct^liied'
where.to^ place it; or' wHaf'ScS'tMnk'oHL 'K'
tbis-iWawli^n Mid-vi8fi«t^toidn?'^el[h^^^^^
wiihoihi «Motioa-or' %i*ViittftiSt' of I^^^^
t • -//; ri C 4 they

16 KISTORT OF ASTROtlOMY:

they excite, which conftitutc the fentimeat ^ro-»
perly cailed WondeVy and which occafioQ thar
fiariDg, and foraetiines that rolliDg of the eyesy
Aat fufpeoiion of the breath, that fwelling of
the heart, which we may all obferve, both ior
ourfelves and others, wheo wondering at fonne
Qew objeA, and which are the natural fymptoms
of uncertain and undetermined thotight. What
fort of a thing can that be ? What is that like ?
s)re the queftions which, upon fuch an occafion>
we are naturally difpofed to afk. If we can re-
colled many fuch objeds which exadly refemble
this new appearance, and which prefent them-
felves to the imagination naturally, and as it wefe
of their own accord, our Wonder is entirely at an
end. If we can recoiled but a £ew^ and whicli
it requires too fome trouble to be able to call up,
our Wonder is indeed diminifhed, but not quite
deftroyed. If we can recoiled none, but arc
quite at a lofsi it is the greateft poflible.

With what curious attention does a natutalift
examine a fingular plant, or a iingukr foflil, that
is presented to him? He is at no lofs to refer it
to the general genus of plants or foi&Is; but this
dojea not fatisfy him, atid whea he confiders all .
t^c different tribes or fpecies ^f either with
wbich j>e has {hitherto been acquainted,' they all.
He jhinks, r^fufe tp jiidam the pew dbjed among
them* It flanks, alqne m his imagination, and
as it were dcjt^dpied from all the other fpfccies
of that gf nfia i^o wbkh it bdongi. He labours,

. :> however,

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMT. ly

h^fwevtr, to conseA it with Some one or other
o£ them. Sometimes he thinks it may be placed
in this, and Ibmetimesin that other aifortment)
nor is he ever iatisfied, till he has fallen upon
one which, in moft of its qualities, it refembles;
M^hen he cannot do this, rather than it Ihould
ffcand quite by itfielf, he will enlarge the precinds;
if I m^y fay fo, of fome fpecies, in order to make
xoom for it; or he will create a new fpecies on
purpofe to receive it, and call it a Play of Nature,
or give it Ibme other appellation under which
lie arranges all the oddities chat he knows not
what elfe to do with. But to fome clars or other
of known objeAs he muft refer it, and betwixt
it and them he mufi find out fome refemblance or
other, before he can get rid of that Wonder, that
uncertainty and anxious curiofity excited by its
fingular appearance, and by its diflimilitude with
all the obje£is he had hitherto obferved.

As fingle and individual objeds thus excite
our Wonder whep^ by their, uncommon qualities
and fingalar appearance, they make us uncertain
to what fpecies of things W9 ou^t to refer them;
fo a fucqeffion of obje^s which follow one ano^
ther in an uncommon train or order, will pro-^
duce the fame efie^, though there be nothing
particular in any one of them takeo by itlblf^

When one accuftomed objeA appears after ano^^
ther, which it does not ufually follow, it firft ex-
citest l^ its unezpedednels^ the fentiment pro^

perly

t$ HISTQJir OF ASTRONDMT.

pcHjr called Sfirptife, and afterwards. hy the fiii-
gylatity of the fucceffioa, orocdenof its appear^
^Qoe» the fentiizient properly called Wonder-
We ftart and are furprifed at feeing it there, and
then wonder how it came there. " The motion o£
ft fmatl piece of iron alang a plain table is in jt-
felf ' no e^ctraordinary objed, yet the pcrfon who
£rft faw it begin, without any irifible impulfe^ in
c<Kifequence of the motion of aloadftone atfamo
little diftance from it, could not behold it with-
out the moft extreme Surprife ; and when ihat
momentary emotion was over, he would ftiU
wonder how it came to be conjoined to an event
with which, ^iccording to the ordinary train of
thingSj he could have fo little fofpoded it to have
any connection.

When two obje&s, however unlike, have of-
ten been obferved to follow each other, and have
conftantly prcfented themfelves to the fenfes in
thatorder, they oome to be folconnfefted toge-
ther in the fancy, that the idea of the one feems,
of its own accord, to call up and introduce that
of the othjer. If the objeds are ftill obferved
to fucceed each other as before, this conne6lion,
or, as it has been called, this a0bciation of their
i|dea8, becomes ftriAer and ilrider, and the ha-
bit of the imagination to pafs from the concep-
tion of the one to that of the other, grows more
and more ri vetted and confirmed. As its. ideas
move more rapidly than external objeds, it is
coaiinuaUy running before thtm^ and therefore

anticipates,

HTSTORY OP AST KOKOMY. x>

anticipates) before it happens, every event which
falls 'out according to this ordinary courfe of
things. When objects fucceed each other in the
fame train in which the ideas of the imagination
have thus been accuftomed to move, and in
■which, though not conduced ' by that chain of
events prefented to the fenfes, they have acquir-r
ed a tendency to go on of their own accpcdel
fuch objefts appear all clofely connefled with one.
;inother, and the thought glides eaTily along them,
vnthout effort and without interruption. They
fall in with the natural career of the imagina*
tion ; and as the ideas' which reprefented fuch a
train of things would feem all mutually to intro^
duce each other, every laft thought to be calle4
op by the foregoing, and to call up the fuccecd-
ing ; fo when the objefts thenifdves occur, eve-
ry laft event feems, in the fame manner, to be
introduced by the foi^egoing,' and tp introduce
the fucceeding. There is no break, no ftbp, no
gap, no' interval- The ideas excited by fo cOr
herenta chain of things feem, as it were, i;o float
thrqiigh the mind of their own accord, without
obliging it to exert itfelf, or to make any eiffbr^
in order to pafs from one of them to another.

But if this cuftomary connexion \>c interruptT
cd, if t)ne or more objeds appear in an order
quite different from that to which the imagina?
tion has been accuftomed, and for which it i$
prepared, the contrary of all this happens, Wc
are at fitft futprifed by thp unexpeaedncfs of the

new

w SISTOI^T OF ASTRONOMY.

new ftppearance, and wben that moodentary eoio*
tion is over, wc ftill wonder bow it came to oc-
cur in that placet The imagination no longer
feels the ufual facility of pafl^ng from the event
which goes before to that which comes after. It
is an order or law of fucce^ion to which it haa
not been accuftomed^ and which it therefore fioda
fome difficulty in following, or in attending to.
The fancy is flopped and interrupted in that na-
tural movement or career, according to which it
was proceeding. Thofe two events feem to ftand
at a diftance from each other; it endeavours to
l>ring them together, but they refufe to unite ;
and it feels, or imagines it feels, fomething tike
a gap or intervat l)etwizt them* It naturally he*
fitates, and, as it were, paufes upon the brink
of this interval; it endeavours to find out fome«
thing which may fill up the gap, which, tike a
bridge, may fo far. at leaft unite thore feemingly
diftant objeds, as to render the pafTage of the
thought betwixt them fmooth, and natural, and
eldy. The fuppofition of a chain of intermedin
ate, though invifible, events, which fucceed eadi
dther in a train fimilar to that in wl^ch the ivar
jginatidn has been accuftomed to move, and. which
link together thofe disjointed appearances, is the
only means by which the imagination can fill up
this interval, is the only bridge which, if one
liiay fay f9, can fmopth its paifage from the one
objeS to the othf^r. Thus, when we obferve the
Inotioii of the ifon^ in confequence of that of
theloadftone, we gaze and helitate, and feel i
' want

HISTORY OF ASTROKOMT, «,

:raQt of conine^lioa betwixt two events which

follow one another in fo unufoal a train. But

when, with Des Cartes, we imagine certain invif

^ble effluvia to circulate round one of them, and

by their repeated impulfes to impel the other,

both to move tpwards it, tad to follow its mo«

tion, we fill up the interval betwixt them, we

join them f pgether by a fort of bridge, and thu«

take o|r that hefitation and difficulty which the

ifoagination felt in paffiag from the one to the

other. That the iron Ihould move after the load-

fione feems, upon this hypothefis, in fome mea«

fore according to the ordinary courfe of things.

Motion adter impulfc is an order of fucceffion

ivith which of all things we are the n^oft famifiax>

Two o\>|e6|s which are fo conneAed feem hq

Joiiger.tQ be disjoined, and the imagination flowf

^moothly^ and eafily along them*

Such is the nature of this fecqnd ^ecies of
Wonder, which arifes from an unufual fucceffion
of things. The ftop which is thereby given tp
the career of the imagination, the difficulty which
it finds in paffing along fuch disjointed objeds,
and the feeling of fpmething like a gap or in*
tcrvai betwixt them, conftitute the whole ef-
fence of this emotion. Upon the clear difcove-
ry of a conneifiing chain of intermediate events^
it vaniflies altogether. What obftru^ed the
movement of the imagination is then removed^
Who wonders at the machinery of the opera-
houfe who has once been admitted behind the

fcenes ?

N-

U HfefORY-OF AiSTRONOMT,

fcenes?" Id the Wondert of nature, however,
it rardy happens that we can difcoTcrfo clearly
this cotmefling chain. With regard to a few
even of them, indeed, we feem to have been
really admitted behind the fcenes, and our Won-
der accordingly is entirely at an end. Thus
the eclipfes of the fun and moon, which once,
more than all the other appearances in the hea-
vens, excited the terror and amazement of man^
kind, feem now no .longer to be wonderful,
iince the connefting chain has been found out
which joins them to the ordinary courfe of
diings. 'Nay, in thofe cafes in which we have
been lefs fuccefsful, even the vague hypothefes of
Pes Cartes, and the yet more indetermined no-
tions of Ariftotle, have, with their followers,
fcontributed to give fome coherence to the ap-
pearances of nature, and might diminifh, though
they could not deftroy, th^ir Wonder. If they
did not completely fill up the interval betwixt
the two disjointed objcfts, they bellowed upon
them, however, fome fort pf loofe conneflioq
which they wanted before,

• That the imagination feels a real difficulty m
pafllng along two events which follow one ano-
ther in an uncommon order, may be confirmed
by many obvious obfervations. If it attempts
to attend beyond a certain time to a long feries
of this kind, the continual efforts it is obliged
to make, in order to pafs from one objeft to
another, and thus follow the progrefs of the

fucceflion,

BISTORT Of astronomy; *3

fucceffion, foon fatigue Mt, and if repeated too
often, diibrder and disjoint itd ivhole frame.
It is thus that too fevere an application to ftudy
fometimes brings on lunacy and frenzy, in thofe
efpecially who are fomewhat advanced in life,
but whofie imaginations, from being too late in
applying, have not got thofe habits which diA
pofe them to follow eafily the* reafonings in the
aUirad: fcienccs. Every ftep of a demonftra-
tion, which to an old praftitioner is quite na-
tural and eafy, requires from them the mod* in-
tenfe application of thought. Spurred on, how-»
ever, either by ambition, or by admiration for
the fubjeS, they ftill continufe till they become,
firft confufed, then giddy, and at laft diftrad*
ed. Could we conceive a .perfon of the found*
eft judgnlent, who had grown up to maturity,
and whofe imagination had acquired thofe habits,
and that mold, which the conftitution of things
in this world neceflarily imprefs upon it, to
be all at once tranfported alive to fome other
planet, where nature was governed by laws
quite diflPerent from thofe which take place
here; as he would be continually obliged to
attend to events, which muft to him appear in
the higheft degree jarring, irregular, and dif-
cordant, he would foon feel the fame confuiion
and giddinefs begin to come upon him, which
would at laft eiid in the fame manner, in lunacy
and diftradlion. Neithw, to produce this ef-
feft, is it neceflary that the^ objefts fhould be
either great or interefting, or even uncommon,

ia

\

.^ J^STOKT or ASTRONOMY.

W themfelves. It is fufficient that they follow
one. anqtli^r iq ai^ uocoinmoQ order. Let any
one attempt to look over even a game of cards,
and to attend panicularly to every fingle ftroke^
and if he is unacquainted with the nature and
rales of the game ; that is, with the laws whicli
fegu^te the fucceflion pf the cards ; he will foon
feel the fame cqnfufion and giddinefs begin to
come upon him^ whicl^ w^je it to bci continued
for day9 and mon^hb woi^ld $nd in the faoie
manner^ in lunacy ^nd diftraAion* But if the
inind be tbu« th^owii intq th« moft violent dif-
order, when it attends (o a long feriej^ of eventa
which fqllow one anotheir in ^n wcomnooa
train, it muft fee^ fome degree of the fi^mc
diforder:, Y^ben it qbf^rves even a iingle event
fall out ia this unufual manner: for the vio^,
lent diforder can arife from nothing but the too^
frequent repetition of this iinaller unes^^^efs.

That it is tl^e ynufualnefs alone of the fueceC*
(ion which occafions this (lop and interruptioa
in the progrefs of the imagination, as well as
^he notion of an interval betwixt the two. im-
mediately fucce^ing ojbje^s, to be filled up by
fome cl^in of intern^edi^te events, i^ not lefs,
evident. The f^me orders of fuccei&on, which
^o one fet of men feem quite according to the
natural courfe of things, and fuch as require
BO intermediate events to join th^m, ihall to.
anothei^ appear altogether incoh^r^nt and djis^
jointed, unlets fome fuch eyeyots b^ fuppofed;

and

History ot astronomy: ii

•fid this for iio dther reifon. But bccauic fach
orders of fucceffion tre famUiai* to the biic,
and ftriDge to th^ othen When We entet the
Irork-faoufes 6f the mdft common artizans ; fuch
as dyers, brewers, diftillers ; we obferve a num-
ber of appearances^ which prefent themfelves
in an order that feems tO us very ftrange and
wonderfuL Out thought cannot eafily follow
k, we feel an interval bfetwilt Iftvery two of
them, and require fome chain of intermediate
events, to fill it up, ind link them together.
But the artizan himfelf, who has been for many
years familiar ^ith the confequences of all the
operations of his art, feeh no fuch interval.
They fall in with what cuftom has made the
natural movement of his imagination : they no
longer ejccite his Wonder, and if he is not a
genius fuperior to hid profeffiod, fo as to be ca-
pable of making the very eafy r^fleftion, that
thofe things^ though familiar to him, may be
firange to us^ he will be difpofed rather to
laugh at, than f3rmpathi2e with bur Wonder. He
cannot conceive what occaiion there is for any
connefiing events to uiiite thofe appearances,
which feem to hitti to fdcceed each other very
naturally; It is their nature, he tells us, to
follow one another in this order, and that ac*
cordingly they always do fo. In the fame man-
aer bread has, fince the world began, been the
common nourilhment of the human body, and
men have fo long feen it, every day, convened
into flefli and bones, fubftances in all refpe&s fo
J unlike

s< History of astronomy*

unlike it, that they have feldom had the ^urio—
fity'to inquire by what procefs of intermediate
events this change is brought about. . Becaufe
the pafTage of the thought from the one objeft
to the other is by cuftom become quite fmooth.
Ibid eafy, almoft without the fuppofition of any
fuch procefs. Philofopher^/ indeed, who often,
look for a chain of iuvifible obje£U to join to-r
gather two events that occur in an order fami-
liar to all the world, have endeavoured to find
out a chain of this kind betwixt the two events
I have juft now mentioned ; in the fame man-
ner- as they have endeavoured, by the like in-
termediate chain, to conneA the gravity, the
elaflicity, and even- the coheiidn of natural bo-
dies, with fome of their other qualities. Thefe^
however, are all of them fuch combinations of
events as give no ftop to the imaginations of
the bulk of mankind, as excite no. Wonder»
nor any apprehenfion that there is wanting the-
firi£le(t connexion between them. But as in
thofe founds, which to the greater part of men-
feem perfe£lly agreeable to meafure and harmo-
ny, the nicer ear of a mufician will difcover
a want, both of the moft exa6l time, and of
thf moft perfed coincidence: fo the more prac*
tifed thought of a philofopher, who has fpent
his whole life in the ftudy of the conneding
principles of. nature, will often feel, an inter-
val betwixt two obje&s, which, to mote caie*.
lefs obfervers, feem very ftridly conjoined... By
Ipng attention to all the C0Aic^iop4 which Jiave.
L ■ . ever

HBTOKT OF ASTftONe]^Y. «)

ever been prefented to hb obfervationi by faavr
ing often compared them, with oae anathar,. he
lias,« like the miificiaQ, acquired,, if one .may fay
Iby-a nicer ear, aad a more delicate feeling with
regard to things^f this nature. And. as to. the
one> that piufia feevis . diflbnance which, falls
ihort^gf.tbe moft perfe£l }\armoi;iy;' fo to the
other, thofe ev^ts ieem ^Itogc^ther feparated and
diajoii^tad, ^whicb |aU (hort ofthe ilr^eft aa4
moft pi^rfe£l connedion.

Plulofophy U the. fc^nce of the cqnneding
prii^ciples of nature. : Nature, afoqr the largeft
'experience tl^kt. common obferrat ion - can ac^
quire, feems to, abound wipk events' which ap-
pear folitary and incoherent .wi;^, all ^ that go
before them> whkli therefore .diftuFJ). the eafy
moyeoient of the imiag^nation ^j whi<^ make its
ideas fucceed ea^cb other, if one may. fay fo, by
irre|p)lar ftarts and /allies; and which thus tend,'
in fome meafure, . to introduce thofe confuiions
and diftradioqs we formerly mentioned* Phi<i
lofqphy, by jreprefenting the invifible chains
whicJi bind togeih^r all thefe disjointed obje^s^
endeavours to introdfice Order iQtothis chaod
of jarring and dtfpordant appearances; to. allay
this tumult of the imaginatioii, and to reftorv
it,, when i( furVeys the great revolutions of the
UQiveife, to that tone of tratiquiUity and cotiH
pofasc) \i4iichis. both moft agreeable in it£df>
and' mbft fuilable to its . natiu^' . Pbilofophfy^
thcre£ave,'.mi7be.rq^rded a&joniivdf tbofe arts
'.... wbicfa^

«i ttstoRT OF AArmSouit:

which addrefs themfelveft to the imsigihatidn ^
knd whofe theory and hiftory, upon that ac-*
county fall properly within the circumference of
our fubje&* Let tis endeavour to take it, from
its firft origin, up to ihit filmmit of perfedion.
to which it is at prefent fuppofed to have ar-^
rivedt and to which, indeed, it has eq^all^
been fuppofed to have arrived in aln^oft aU
former times. It is the moft fubltme of all th<i
j^reeable arts, and its revoltitions have been
the greateft, the moft frequent, and the moil:
diftinguilhed of all thofe that have happened
in the literary world. Its hiftory, therefore;
muft, upon all accounts, hd the moft enter*'
tatning and the moft inftrudtve. Let us exa;-
mine, therefore, all the different fyftems of na*
ture, which, in thefe weftern paits of the Worlds
the only parts of whoft hiftory wi ki^bw any
thing, have fucceffively been adopted by the
learned and ingenious; and, without regarding
their abfurdity or probability, their agreement
or inconfiftency with truth and reality, let u»
eonfider them only in that particular point of
view which belongs to our fubjed ; and content
ourfelves with inquiring how far each of them
was fitted to footh the imagination, and ^ ren*
der the theatre of nature a more coherent, and
therefore a more magnififcent fpedacle, than
otherwife it would have appeared to be. Ac*
cording as they have failed or focceeded in this^
they haire conftamly failed or fucoeeded in gain>*
iBg reputation and renown to their authors; i

and I

HBTORT OF ASTRONOMY. a9

and tills wiU be found to be the clew that is
moft capable of conducing us through all the
labyrinths of philofophical hifiory : for, in the
mean time, it will ferve to confirm what has
gone before, and to throw light upon what is
to come after, that we obferve, in general, that
no fyftem, how well foever in other refpe£ls
fupported, has ever been able to gain any ge*
neral credit on the world, whofe conne&ing
principles were not fuch as were familiar to all
mankind. Why has the chemical philofophy
in all ages crept along in obfcurity, and been
fo difregarded by the generality of mankind^
while other fyftems, lefs ufefiil, and not more
agreeable to experience, have poflefled univer-
fal admiration for whole centuries together}
The conneAing principles of the chemical phi*
lofophy are fuch as the generality of mankind
know nothing about, have rarely feen, and have
never been acquainted with ; and which to them,
therefore, are incapable of fmoothing the paf«
fage of the imaginati(m betwixt any two feem-
iQgty disjointed objeds. Salts, fulphurs, and
mercuries, acids, and alkalis, are principles
which can fmooth things to thofe only who
live about the furnace; but whofe moft com-
mon operations feem, to the bulk of mankmd,
as disjointed as any two events which the che*
mifts would conned together by them. Thofe
ardfts, however, naturally explained things to
themfelves by principles that were familiar to
^emrelves. As Ariftotle obferves, that the early

D Pythagoreansj

yx HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY*

Pytlu^reans, who firft fiudied arithinetic, eac^
plained til things by the properties of nam*
bers; and Cicero tells us, that Ariftoxenusj
the mufician, found the nature of the foul to
confift in harmony. In the fame manner, a
kamed phyfician lately gave a fyfiem of moral
philofophy upon the principles of his own art,
in which wifdom and virtue were the healthful
ftate of the foul; the different vices and fol-
lies, the different difeafes to which it wns fub-
je6ti 1^ which the caufes and fymptoms of
thofe difeafes were afcertained ; and, in the fame
medical firain, m proper method of cure pre-
fcribed. In the fame manner alfo, others have
written parallels of painting and poetry, 6f po-
etry and mufic, of mufic and architedure, of
beauty and virtue, of all the fine arts ; fyf-
terns which have univerfally owed their origin
to the lucubrations of thofe who were ac-
quainted with the one art, but ignorant of the
other ; who therefore explained to themfelves
the phaenomena, in that which Was ftrange to
them, by thofe in that which was familiar ; and
with whom, upon that account, the analogy,
which in other writers gives occafion to a few
ingeniotis fimihtudes, became the great hinge
upon which every thing turned.

SECTION

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY; ji

SECTION III. '

Of the Origin of Fhilofophy.

JVIankind, in the firft ages of fociety, before
th^ eftabliftimcnt of law, order, and fecjurity,
have little curiofity to find out thofe hidden chains
of events which bind together the feemingly dif»
jointed appearances of nature- A favage, whofc
fubfiftencc is precarious, whofe life is every day
erpofed to the nideft dangers, has no inclinatioa
to aniufe hirafelf with fearching [out what, whea
difcovered, feems to ferve no other purpofe than
to render the theatre of nature a more conned-
ed fpedacle to his imagination. Many of thefe
fmaller incoherences, which an the courfe of
things perplex philofophers entirely efcape his
attention* -Thofe more magnificent irregularis^
ties, i;vhofe grandeur he cannot overlook, call
forth his amazement. Comets, eclipfes, thun-
der, lightning, and other meteors, by their great-
nefs, naturally overawe him, and he views them
with a reverence that approaches to fear. His
inexperience and uncertainty with regard to eve-
ry thing about them, how they came, how they
are to go, what went before, what is to come af-
ter them, exafperate his fentiment into terror and
conftcmation. ;But our paffions, as Father Mai-.
D z branchc

ii lliSTORt OF ASTHONOMT.

branche obfcrvcs, all juftify themfelves ; that is,
fuggeft to us opinions that juftify them- As thofe
appearances terrify him, therefore, he is difpof-
cd to believe every thing abotit them which caa
render them ftill more the objedls of his terror.
That they proceed from fome intelligent, though
invifible caiifes, of whofe vengeance and dif>
pleafure they are either the ligns or the efleds,
18 the notion of all others mod capable of eii-
hancing this pafiion; and is that, therefore, \vhich
he is moll apt to entertain. To this too, that
cowardice and pulillanimity, fo natural to man in
his uncivilixed ftate, ftill more difpofes him ; un-
protedled by the laws of fociety, expofed, de-
fencelefs, he feels his weaknefs upon all occa*
fions ; his ftrength and fecurity upon nOne*

But all the irregularities of nature are not of
this awful or terrible kind; Some of thfem are
perfeAly beautiful and agreeable. Thefe, there-
fore; from the fame impotience of mind, would
be beheld with love and complacency, and
even with tranfporta of gratitude; for whatever
is the caufe of pleafure naturally excites dbr gra*
titude. A child carefles the fruit that is agreea-
ble to it, aa it beats the ftone that hurts it. The
tiotioDa of a favage are not very different;
The ttieient Athenians, who folemnly puniihed
the ate which had accidentally been the caufe
6f the death of a man, ereded altars, and of-
fei«d facrifices to the rainbow* Sentiments not
unlike thefe, may fometimesj upon fuch occa-

fions.

HISTORT OF ASTRONOMV. |s

fioas, begin to be felt even in the bieafts of the
moft civilized, but ave prefentlj checked by th^
^pefledion^ that the things are not their proper
objeAs. But a favs^e, whofe notions are guided
altogether by wild nature and paffion, waits foe
tio other proof that a thing is the proper objeA
of any fentiment^ than that it excites it. The
reverence and gratitude, with which fome of the;
appearances of nature infpire him, convince hin\
that they are the proper objeds of reverence and
gratitude, a^d therefore proceed from fome in*
teUigent beings, who take pleafare in the ezpref-
fions of thofe fentiment^t With him, therefore,^
every objeA of nature, which by its beauty or
gceatnefa, its utility or hurtfulnefs, is confidera*
ble enough to attract his attenti9^, a^id whole
operations are not perfeQly regular, is fuppofed
to 9L& by the dircAioii of fome invi^ble and de-
. figning power. The k^ is fpread oyt into a calmj^
or heaved into a Aorm, according to the good
pleafure of Neptune. Dqfis the e«rth pour fortfa^
an exuberant harveft ^ It is 9wii^ to the induln
gence of Ceres* I>oe$ the; vine yield a plentiful
vintage ? It flows froip the bounty of Bacchus.
Do either refufe their prefents ? It is afcribed to
the difpleafure^ of thofe offended deitijC^, Thp
tree, which now flonrifhes, and now d/ecays, is
inhabited by 4 Dryad, upon whofe henlth, or fick-
nefs its viuiopa. appearances depend. Th^.foum
tain, which fpmetimes flows in a copious, and
fometimes in a fcanty ftream, which appears fon||e«
times clear and limpid^ and wd |jt other times

muddy

M HMTOBYiOK AfiTRONOBI?.

muddy an^>dijfturbed, is affe&ed in all its changes
by the Naiad whodwelU ^thin it. Hence the
origin of Polytheifm, and of that vulgar fuper^
ftition which aferibes all the irregular events of -
nature- to the favour or difpleafure of intelligent,
though invifible beings, to gods, daemons, witched
genii, fairies.- Fov it may be obferv^d, that ia
all Polytheiftic religions, among favages, as well
as in the early ages of Heathen antiquity, it is.
the irregular events of nature only that are aficrib-*
cd to the agency and power of their gods. Fire>
burns, and water refrefhes; heavy bodies de-/
fcend, and lighter ][is()ftance8 fly upwards, by the
neceffity of their own nature; nor was theinvi-^
£ble hand of Jupiter ever apprehended to be
employed in thofe matters. But thunder and
lightning, ftorms and fun(hine, thofe- more irre«<»
gular events, were afcribed to his favour, or his
anger. Man, the only defigning power with
which they were acquainted, never ads but. ei^
ther to ftop, or- toaker the courfe, which natu-
ral events would take, if left to themfdves^
Thofe other intelligent beings, whom they ima-
gined, but knew iSot, were naturally fuppofed to
ad in the fame manner; not to employ them*
felves in fupporting the ordinary courfe of things,*
which went on of its^ own accord, but to ftop,
to thwart, and to difturb it. And thus, in the
firft agesx)f the world, the loweft and moft pu-
fillanimous fuperftition fupplied the place of phi*
lofophy.

But

V^k

HKTORT OF A87R0MO]ir/ j^

Bot when law has eftabliihed order and fecu-
rity, afid fubfiftcncc ceafes to be precarious, the
curiofity of mankind is increafed, and their feart
are diminiihed. The leifiixc which they then en-
joy renders them more attentive to the appear-*
ances of nature, more obfervant of her fmalleft
irregularities, and more defirous to know whar
IS the chain which Knks them all together. That
feme fuch chain fubfifta betwixt all her feemingly
disjointed phaenomena, they are necefTarily led
to conceive ; and that magnanimity, and cheer*
fulnefs, which all generous natures acquire who
are bred in civiliiqed focieties, where they have
fo few occafions to feel their weaknefs, and fo
many to be confcious of their ilrength and fecu-
lity, renders them Icfs difpofed to employ, for
this conneAing chain, thofe invifible beings
whom the fear and ignorance of their rude fore-
fathers had engendered. Thofe of liberal for**
tunes, whofe attention is not much occupied ei<*
ther with bufinefs or with pleafure, can fill up
the void of their imagination, which is thus dif^
engaged from the ordinary affairs of life, no other
way than by attending to that train of events
which pafies around them^ While the great ob-
jeds of nature thus pafs in review before them,
many things occur in an order to which they
have not been accuftomed. Their imagination,
which accompanies with eafe and delight the re--
gnlar progrefs of nature, is flopped and embar«
ra0ed by thofe feeming incoherences; they ex«
cite their wonder, and feem to require fome

chain

Stf tinOKT OF ASTROKOM7.

chain of intermediate events, which, by connec-
ting them with fomething that has gone before^
may thus render the whole courfe of the uaW
verfe confident and of a piece. Wonder, there-
fore, and not any expefiation of advantage from
itsdifcoveries, is the firft principle, which prompts
mankind to the findy of Philofophy, of that
Science which pretends to lay opeil the conceal*
ed connexions that unite the various appearances
of nature; and they pui^ue this ftud'y for k's
own fake as an original plealure or good in it*
lelf, without regarding iu tendencjr to procure
thein the mean^ of inany other pleaflires.

Greece, and the Greiek colonies in Sicily, Ha-
ly, and the Lefler Afia^ were the firft countries
which, in thefe wefiem parts of the vorfd, ar*
rived at a ftate of civilized fociety. It was in
them, therefore, that the firft philofophers, of
whofe doArine we have any diftiod account, ap-
peared* Law and ordeic f^^cm indeed to have
b^cn eftabUflied in the great monarchies of Afia
and Egypt, long before they had any footing in
Greece: yet, after all that has been laid con-
cerning the learning of the Chaldeans and Egyp**
tians, whether there ever was in tboTe nations any
thing which deferved the name of fcience, or
whether that defpotifm which is more deftrudive
of fecurity and leifure than anarchy itfelf, and
which prevailed over all the Eaft, prevented the.
growth of Philofophy, is a queftion which for

HBTORT OP ASTROMOMT^ 31

waatof monuments, cjukaot be dcteroaned witl^
aay degree of precifion.

The Greek colonies having been fettled amid
nations either altogether barbarous> or altogether
nnwarlike, over whom, therefore, they foon ac-
quired a very great authority, feem, upon that
accoont, to have arrived at acpnfiderable degree
o£ empire and opulence before any ftate in the
parent country had furmoiinted that extreme po-
verty, which, by leaving no room for any evi-
dent diftinAion of ranks, is neceffarily attend-
ed with the confufion and mifrule which flows
from a want of all regular fubordiuation. The
Greek iflands being fecucp from the invafion of
land armies, or from naval forces, which ^ere
in thofe days but litde known, feem, upon that
account too, to have got before the continent in
all forts of civility and improvement. The firft
philofophers, therefore, as well as the firft poets,
feem all to have been natives, either of their co-
lonies, or of their iflands. It was from thence
that Homer, Archilochus, Stefichorus, Simo-
nides, Sappho» Anacreon, derive their birth.
Thales and Pythagoras, the founders of the two^
earliefl: feds of philofophy, arofe, the one in an
Afiatic colony, the other in an ifland ; and nei-
ther of themeftabtiflied his fchool in the mother
country.

What was the particular fyftem of either of
diofe two phUofophers^ or whether their dovfirine

waa

i9 jiperroasi OEr ASTKotKjasK.

'Was fo m^tliodizedr as^ to defervethe nBmeo£ m
fyftem, the imperfe£lion, aB well as the uncer-
tainty of all the traditions that have come down
to us concerning thecQ, makes it impoffibk to de-
termiBe. The fchool of Pythagoras^ however,
feem&to have advanced, further in the ftudy of-
the conaedling principle of nature, than that oF
the Ionian philofopher. The accouzits which are
given of Anajsimaader, Anazamenes^ Anaxago-
ras^ Arehelaus^ the fuocelJbrB of Thalea^ i^pre-
fent the do£lrines of thofe fages^ as full of the
rooft inextHcable coafuiion. Something, how-
ever;,, that approMhcs to a oompofed and oiderlp
fyftem, may be traced in what is delivered downt
to us coaeernin^: the do£brioe ofi £mpedooIe»^
of Ardh)Has, of TimoKus^ asd^ of Oc^us the
Lucanian^ the moft renowbed pbiloTophers of
the Italian fehool. The opinions of thetwo laft
foincide pretty much;, the one, \nth thofe of
Plato: the pther, with* thofe of Ariftotle; nor
db thofe oif the two firft feein to have been very
different, oif whom the one was the author of
the dodrine of the Four Elements, the other the
inventor of the Categories^; who, therefore, may
be regarded as the founders, the one, of the
ancient Phyfics; the other, of the ancient Dia^
leftic; and, how clofely thcfe were connedied,
will appear hereafter. It was in the fchool of
Socrates, however, from Plato and Ariftotle,'
that Philofophy firft received that form, which
introduced her, if one may fay fo, to the gene-
ral acquaintance of the world. It is from thein>

therefore,

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY* 39

therefore, that we (hall begin to give her hiftory
in any detail. Whatever was valuable in the for-
mer fyftems, which was at all confident with their
general principles, they feem to have confolidat-
cd into their own. From the Ionian Philofophy,
I have not been able. to difcover that they derived
any thing. From the Pythagorean fchool, both
Plato and Ariftotle feem to have derived the funda-
mental principles of almofl all their do£lrines.
Plato^ too, appears to have borrowed fomething
from two other feds of philofophers, whofe ex-r
treme obfcurity feems to have prevented them
from acquiring themfelves any extenfive reputa^
tion : the one was that of Cratylus and Heracli-
tus; the other was that of Xenophanes, Parme-
nides, Meliflus, and Zeno. To pretend to ref-
cue the fyftem of any of thofe* antefocratic fages,
from that oblivion which at prefent covers them
all, would be a vain and ufelefs attempt. What
feems, however, to have been borrowed from
them, jhall fometimes be marked as we go along.

There was ftill another fchool of philofophy,
earlier than Plato, from which, however, he was
fo far fr'om borrowiog any thing, that he feems to
have bent the whole force of his reafon to difcre-
dit and expofe its principles. This was the Philo-
fophy of Leucippus, Democritus, and Protagoras,
which accordingly feems to have fubmitted to his
eloquence^ to have lain dormant, and to have
been aloioft forgotten for fome generations, till it
was afterwards more fuccefsfblly revived by £pi-

CUIIQS.

SECTION

40 HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

SECTION iv:

Tie Hijlory of Aflronomy*

WF all the phaenomena of nature, the celeftial
appearances are, ^ by their ^reatnefs and beauty,
the moft univerfal pbjcdfl( of the curiofity of man-
kind. Thofe who furveyed the heavens with the
moft carelefs attention, iieceflarily diilinguiihed
in them three different forts of objeds ; the Sun,
the Moon, and the Stars* Thefe laft, app,earing
always in the fame fituation, and at the fame dif-
tance with regard to pnf another, and feeming to
revolve every day round the f artli in parallel cir-
cles, which widened gradually from the poles to
the equator, were naturally thought to liav^ all
the marks of being fixed, like fo many gems, in
the concave fide of the firmament, and of bebg
carried round by the diurnal revolutions of that
folid body : for the a^vire fky, in which the ftars
feem to flo^t, was readily apprehended, upon ac*
count of the uniformity of t^eir apparent modons,
to be a folid body, the roof or outer wall of the
univerfe, to whofe infide all thofe little fjparklinj^
gbjeds were attache^*

The Sun and Moon, often changing their diA
tance and fituation, in regard to the other heaven-
ly bodies, could not be apprehended to t>e attack-

HISTORY OP ASTRONOMY. 4t

bd to tlie fame fpliere with them. They afiigned^
therefore, to each of them, a fphere of its own ;
that is, fuppofed each of them to be attached to
the concave fide of a folid and tranfparent body^
by whofe revolutions they were carried round the
earth. There was not indeed, in this cafe, the
iame ground for the fuppofition of fuch a fphere
as in that of the Fixed Stars ; for neither the Sun
nor the Moon appear to keep always at the fame
diftance with regard to any one of the other hea-
venly bodies. But as the motioh of the Stars had
been accounted for by an hypothefis of this kind, it
rendered the theory of the heavens more unifdirm,
to account for that of. the Sun and Moon in the
fame manner. The fphere of the Sun they placed
above that of the Moon ; as the Moon was evi-
dently feen in eclipfes to pafs betwixt the Sun and
the Earth. Each of them was fuppofed to revolve
by a motion of its own, and at the fame time to
be affeded by the motion of the TxiCcd Stars.
Thus^ the Sun was carried round from eafi to weft
by the communicated movement of this outer
fphere, which produced his diurnal revolutions,
and the viciflitudes of day and night ; but at the
fame time he had a motion of his own, contrary
to this^ from weft to eaft> which ^occafioned his
annual revolution, and the continual ihifting of
place with r^ard to the Fixed Stars^ This mo«
tion was more eafy, they thought, when carried
on edgeway8> and not in dire^ oppofition to the
motion of the outer fphere, which occafioned the
iocltnation of the axis of the fphere of the Sun,
to that of the fphere of the Fixed Stars; this again

produced

42 -HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

produced the obliquity of the ecliptic, and th
confequent changes of the feafons. iThe Moon
being placed below the fphere of the Sun, hac
both a fliorter courfe to finifli, aad was lefs ob
ftrufted by the contrary movement of the fpherc
of the Fixed Stars, from which fhe was farthei
removed. She finifhed her period, therefore, in
a fhorter time, and required but a month, inftead
of a year, to complete it.

The Stars, when more attentively furvcyed,
were fome of them obferved to be lefs conftant and
uniform in their motions than the reft, and to
change their fituations with regard to the other
heavenly bodies; moving generally eafiwards,
yet appearing fometimes to ftand ftill, and feme-
times even to move weft wards. Thefe, to the
number of five, were diftinguiftied by the name of
Planets, or wandering Stars, and marked with
the particular appellations of Saturn, Jupiter,
Mars, Venus, and Mercury. As, like the Sun
and Moon, they feem to accompany the motion i
df the Fixed Stars from eaft to weft, but at the
fame time to have a motion of their own, which
is generally from weft to eaft ; they were each of
them, as well as thofe two great lamps of heaven,
apprehended to be attached to the infide of ^ fo
lid concave and tranfparent fphere, which had a
revolution of its own, that was almoft direftly
contrary to the revolution of the outer heaven,
but which, at the fame time, was hurried along
by the fuperior violence and rapidity of this laft.

Thii

HISTOKY OF ASTRONOMY. 45

This is thcfyftem^ concentric Spheres, the
firft regular fyftem^ Aftronomy, which the world
beheld, as it was taught in the Italian fchool be-
fore A riftotle and his two cotemporary philofo-
phers, Eudoxus and Callippus, had given it all
the perfe6lion which it is capable of receiving.
Though rude and inartificial, it is capable of con-
tieding together, in the imagination, the grandeft
and the moft feetningly disjointed appearances ia
the heavens. *rhe motioils of the moft remarka-
ble ob^eAs in the celeftial regions, the Sun, the
Moon, and the Fixed Stars, are fufficiently ton-
neSed with one another by this hypothefis. The
eclipfes of thefe two great luminaries are, though
not fo eafily calculated, as eaiily explained, upon
this ancient, as upon the modern fyfteni. When
thefe early philofophers explained to their difci-
ples the very fimple caufes of thofe dreadful phse-
^omena, it was under the feal of the moft facred
fecrecy, that they might avoid the fury of the peo-
ple, and not incur the imputation of impiety,
when they thus took from the gods the diredion
of thofe events, which were apprehended to be
the moft terrible tokens of, their impending ven-
geance. The obliquity of the ecliptic, the con-
Tequent changes of the feafons, the viciflitudes of
day and night, and the different lengths of both
days and nights, in the different feafons, corref-
Jwnd too, pretty exaftly, with this ancient doc-
trine. And if there had been no other bodies dif-
coverable in the heavens befides the Sun, the
Moon^ and the fixed Stars, this old hypothefis

might

44 HT8T0SY OF ASTRONOMY.

might htTe ftood tke ezamtni^oQ of all ages, m
have goae down triuoipluuit to the xttnoteft pof
terity.

If It guned the belief of mankind by its plauli^
biUt7> it attraded their wonder and admiratioj];
fentiments tliat ftill more confirmed their belief,
by the novelty and beauty of that view of nature
which it prefented to the imagination; Before
this fyftem was taught in the world* the earth was
regarded as^ what it appears to the eye^ a vafl,
rough, and irregular plain, the bafis and founda-
tion of the univerfe, furrounded on all fides by the
ocean* and whofe roots extended themfelves
through the whole of that infinite depth whicb is
below it. The fky was confidered as a folid he-
inifphere, which covered the earth, and united
with the ocean at the extremity of the horizon. The
Sun, the Moon, and all the heavenly bodies rofe
out of the eaflcm, climbed up the convex fide of
the heavens, and defcended again into the wefiern
ocean, and from thence, by fome fubterraneous
pafTages, returned to their firft chambers in the caff.
Nor was this notion confined to the people, or to
the poets who painted the opinions of the people:
it was held by Xenophanes, the founder of the
Eleatic philofophy, after that of the Ionian and
Italian fchopls, the earlieft that appeared in
Greece. Thalesof Miletus too, who, according
to Ariftotle, reprefented the Earth as floating upc)a
an immenfe ocean of water, may have been near-
ly of the fame opinion ; notwithftanding what we
are told by Plutarch and Apuleius concerning his

afironomical

HISTOkY OF ASTRONOMY. 45

aftronomical difcoveries, all of which mufl plainly
have been of a much later date. To thofe who had
DO other idea of nature^ befides what they de-
rived from fo confufed an account of things, how
agreeable muft that fyftem have apjpeared, which
reprefented the Earth as diftinguiftied imoland
and witer, felf-baUnced and fufpended la the
centre of the univerfe, furrounded by the ele*
ments of Air and Ether, and covered by eight
poliflied and crillalline Spheres, each of which
was dillinguifhed by one or more beautiful and
luminous bodies, and all of which revolved round
their common centre, by varied, but by equable
and proportionable motions^ It feems to. have
been the beauty of this fyftem that gave Plato the
notion of fomething like an harmonic proportion,
to be difcovered in the motions and diftances of
the heavenly bodies ; and which fuggefted to the
earlier Pythagoreans, the celebrated fancy of the
Mufick of the Spheres : a wild and romantic idea»
yet fuch as does not ill correfpond with that ad«
miration, which fo beautiful a fyftem, recom-
mended too by the graces of novelty, is* apt to in-
fpire.

Whatever are the iiefe^ls which this account of
things labours under, they are fuch, as to the firft
obfervers of t!ie heavens could not readily occur.
If all the motions of the Five Planets cannot, the
greater part of them may, be eafily conneded by
it ; they and all their motions are the leaft remar-
kable objeds in the heavens ; the greater part of
xaankind take no notice of them at all ; and a

£ fyftem^

^ History o** astronomy.

fyftem, whofe only defeA lies in the account
which it gives of them, cannot thereby be ixiucll
difgraced in their opinion. If fome of the appear-^
ances too of the Sun and Moon, the fometimcs
accelerated and again retarded motions of thole
luminaries but ill correfpond with it ; thefe too'',
are fuch as cannot- be difcovered but by the moft
attentive obfervation, and fuch therefore as we
cannot wonder that the imaginations of the firft
enquirers (hould flur over, if one may fay fo, and
take little notice of.

It was, however, to remedy thofe defeats, that
Eudoxus, the friend and auditor of Plato, found
it neceflary to increafe the number of the Celeftial
Spheres. Each planet is fometimes obferved to
advance forward in that eaftward courfe which is
peculiar to itfelf, fometimes to retire backwards,
and fometimes again to ftand fiill. To fuppofe
that the Sphere of thfc Planet ftiould by its own
motion, if one may fay fo, fometimes roU for-
wards; fometimes roll backwards, and fometimes
do neither the one nor the other, is contrary to
all the natural propeniities of the imagination,
which accompanies with eafe and delight any re-
gulal* and orderly motion, but feels itfelf perpe-
tually ftopJ)ed and interrupted, when it endea-
vours to attend to one fo defultory and uncertain.
It would purfue, naturally andof its own accord,
the dire£l or progreffive movement of the Sphere;^
but is every now and then ftiocked, if one may fay
fo, andturned violently out of its natural career by

the

tnstoRY oir astronomy. 47

the retrogtade and ftationary appearances of thd
Planet, betwixt which and its more ufual motion,
the fancy iFeels a Want of connexion, a gap or in-
terval, which it c::annot fill up, but by fuppofmg
fonne chain of intermediate events to join them.
The hypothefis of a number of other fpheres re-
volving in the heavens, befides thofc in which the
luminous bodies themfelves were infixed, was the
cliain with which Eudoxus endeavoured to fupply
it. He beftowed four of thefe S jpheres upon each
of the Five Planets; one in which the luminous
body itfelf revolved, and three others above it.
£ach of thefe had a regulai* and conftant, but a
peculiar ihovement of its own, which it communi-
cated to what was properly the Sphere of the Pla-
net, knd thus occafioned that diverfity of motions
obVervable in thofe bodies. One of thefe Spheres,
for example, had an ofcillatory motion, like the
circular pendulum of a watch. As when you turn
round a watch, like a Sphere upon its axis, the
pendulum will, while turned roiind along. with
it, ftill cOniiaile to ofcillate, and commuuicaie to
Ti^hatever body is comprehended within it, both
its own ofcillations and the circular motion of the
watch; fo this ofcillating Sphere, being itfelf turn-
ed round by the motion of the Sphere above it,
communicated to the Sphere below it, that circu-
lar, as well as its own ofcillatory motion ; pro-
duced by the one, the daily revolutions ; by the
other, the direS, ftationary, and retrograde ap-
pearances of the Planet, which derived from a
third Sphere that revolution by which it perforiii-

£ % ed

4g HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

ed its annual period. The motiond of all thdc
Spheres were in themfelves conftant and equable,
fuch as the imagination could eafily attend to and
purfue, and which connected together that other*
wife incoherent diverfity of movements obfervable
in the Sphere of the Planet. The motions of the
Sun and Moon being more regular than thofe of
the Five Planets, by affigning three Spheres to
each of them, Eudozus imagined he could con-
ntSt together all the diverfity of movements difco-
verable in either. The motion of the Fixed Stars
being perfeAly regular, one Sphere he judged
fufficient for them all. So that, according to this
account, the whole number of Celeftial ^[>heres
amount^ to twenty-feven. Callippus, though
fomewhat younger, the cotemporary of Eudoxus,
found that even this number was not enough to
conneA together the vaft variety of movements
which he difcovered in thofe bodies, and therefore
increafed it to thirty-four. Ariftotle, upon a yet
inore attentive obfervation, found that even all
thefe Spheres^ would not be fufficient, a:nd there-
fore added twenty-two more, which increafed
their number to fifty-fix. Later obfervers difco^
vered ftill new motions, and new inequalities, in
the heavens. New Spheres wef e therefore ftill to
be added to the fyflem, and fome of them to be
placed even above that of t^e Fixed Stars. So that
in the fixteenth century, when Fracoilorio, fmit
with the eloquence of Plato and Ariftotle, and
vntk the regularity and harmony of their fyftem,
4n itfelf perfedly beautiful, though it correfppnds

but

»I8T0RY OP ASTRONOMY. 49

bat inaccurately with the phsenomena^ endeavour-
ccl-to revive thi9 ancient Aftronomy, which bad
long given place to that of Ptolemy and Hipparr
cbu6> he found it neceffary to multiply the num-
ber of Celeftial Spheres to fevcnty^two j neither
were all thefe enough.

This fyftem had now become as intricate and
complex as thofe appearances themfelves, which
it had beeil invented to render uniform and cohe-
rtat. The imagination, therefore, found itfelf
bat little relieved from that ^mbarr^fTment, into
which thofe appearances had thrown it, by fo per-
plexed an account of things. Another fyft^nn, fqx
this reafon, not long after the days of Ariftotle^
was invented by ApoUonius, which was after-
warrds perfeded by Hipparchus, and Has fince
been delivered down to us by Ptolemy, the more
artificial fyftem of Eccentric Sphere^ and Epicy-* .
jclef.

In this fyftem, theyfirft diftinguiihM betwixt
the real and apparent motion of the heavenly bo-
dies. Thefe, they obferved, upon account of
their immenfe diftanoe, muft necefTarily appear to
revolve in circle^ cqncentric with the globe of the
Earth, and with one another : but that we cannot,
therefore, be certain that they really revolve ia
fuch circles, fincc, though they did not, they
would ftill have the fame appearance. By fup^o-
fing, therefore, that the Sun and the other Pla*
nets revolved in circles^ whofe ccmrcsV^re very

diftant

5<7 . * HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

diftaat fropi t^e centre of the Earth ; that con*
fequemly, in the progrefs of their revoluticux^
they mail fometimes approach oearer, and fome^-
times recede further from it, and muft, thcre-
fpre, to its inhabitants appear to move fafter ixx,
the one cafe, and flower in the other, thofe phi-
lofophers imagined they could account for the
apparently unequal velocities of aH thofe bodies.

By fuppofing, that in the folidity of the
Sphere of each of the Five Planets there va%
formed another little Sphere, calkd an Epicycle^
which revolved round its own centre, a^ the
fame time that it was carried round the centre of
the Earth by the revolution of the great Sphere^
betwixt whofe concave and convex: fides it was
inclofed ; in the fame manner as we might fup^
pofe a little wheel inclofed within the outer circle
of a great wheel, and which whirled about feveral
times upon its own axis, while its centre was ciar-*
ried round the axis of the great wheel, they ima-^
gined thej^cpuld account, for the retrograde and
ilatiouary appearances of thofe moit irregular
qbjedls in the heavens. The Planet, they fup-
pofed, was attached to the circumference, and
whirled round the centre of this lixtle Sphere, at
the f^me time that it. was carried round the Earth
by the movement of the great Sphere. The
revolution of this little Sphere, or Epicycle, was
fuch, that the Planet, when in the upper part of
U ; that is, when furtheQ off and leafl fenEble to
Hxc eye; was carried rpuad in 'the fame direc*'

tioA

HISTORY OF AOTRCttfOMV, 5^

tCotf vith the centre of the Epicycle, or with the
Sphere in which the Epicycle was inclofed : but
Mr hen in the lower part, that is, when neareft and
moft fenfible to the eye; it was carried round in a
dire&ion contrary to that of the centre of the
JSpicycle : in the fame manner as every point in
the upper part of the out^r circle of a coach-
'wheel revolves forward in the fame dire6^ion
with the axis, while every point, ip the lower
part, revolves backwards in a contrary direflion
to the axis. The motions of the Planet, there-
fere^ fiirveyed from the Earth appeared direft,
mhen in the upper part of the Epicycle, and
xetrograde, when in the lower. When again it
either defcended from the upper part to the low-
er, or afcended from the lower to the tipper, itj
neceflarily appeared ftatipusiry.

But, though, by the eccentricity of tji^ great
Sphere, they were thus able, in fome meafure,
to conned together the unequal velocities of the
heavenly bodies, and by the revolution of the
little Sphere, the direft, ftationary, and re-
trograde appearances of the Planets, there
was another difficulty that ftill remained. Nei-
ther the Moon, nor the three fuperior Planets,
appear always in the fame part of the heavens^
TR^hen at their periods of moft retarded mo-
tion, or when they are fuppofed to be at the
greateft diftance from the Earth. The apogeum
therefore, or the point of the greateft diftance
from the Earth, in the Spheres* of each of thofe

bodies^

5i HISTORY OF ASTRONOMT*

bodies, muft hkve a movement of ks own, wliicli
may carry it fucceffivcly through all the differeiit
points of the Ecliptic. They fuppofed, there-
fore, that while the great eccentric Sphere re-
volved eaflwards round it$ centre, that it$ centre
too revolved weft wards in a circle of its own,
round the centre of the Earth, and thua carried
its apogeum through all the different points o|
the Ecliptic*

But wUH all thofe combined and perplezed[
circles ; though the patrons o/ this fyftem were
able to give fome degree of uniformity to the real
direftipns of the Planets, they found it impoffi-
ble fo to adjuft the velocities of thpfe fuppofed
Spheres to the phsenomena, as that the revplu*
tion of aqy of them, when furvfyed from itf
own centre, ihould appear perfedly equable and
uniform. From that point, the only point in
which the velocity of wh^it moves in a circle can
^)e truly judged of, they would ftill appear irrc-
gular and inconftant, and fuch as tended to em«
barrafs and confound the imagination. They
invented therefore, for each of them, a new
Circle, called thp Equalizing Circle, from whole
centre they (hould appear perfeAly equable : that
is, they fo adjufted the velocities of thcfe Spheres^
as that, though the revolution of each of them
would appear irregular when furveyed from it«
own qentre, there ihould, however, be a point
comprehended within its circumference, from
vrheacc its motions (hould appear to cut off, in

equal

HtSl^HT OP ASTRONOMY^ Sj

equal times, equal portion3 of the Circle, of which
that point wa^ the centre.

Nothing can paorp evidently fhow, hpw niuch
the repo^ and tranquility of the imagination isf
the ultimate end of philoibphy, than the inven*
tion of this Equalizing Circle. The niQtipns of
the heavenly bodies had appeared inconftant and
irregular, botl? in their velocities and in their
diredlion^. They were fuch, therefore, as tend-
ed to embarrafs and confound the imagination,
whenever )t attempted to trace them. The in-
vention of Eccentric Spheres, of Epicycles, and
of the revolution of the centres of the Eccen-
tric Spheres, tended to ^llay thi§ confufion, to
conned together thofe disjointed appearances, and
to introduce harmony and order into the mind'j^
conception of the movement of thofe bodies.
It did this, however, but imperfedlly ; it intro^
daced uniformity and coherence into their real
direfiions. But their velocities, when furveyed
from the only point ^n which the velocity of
what moves in a Circle can be truly judged of,
the centre of that Circle, ftill remained, in fome
meafure, inconftant as before ; and fiill, there-
fore, embarrafled the imagination. The mind
found itfelf fomewhat relieved from this embar-
raffment, when it conceived* that how irregular
foever the motions of each of ^hofe Circles might
appear, when furveyed from its own centre, there
was, however, in each of them, a point, from
whence its revolution would appear perfeftly

equable

54* . HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

equable and uniform, and fuch as the imagina^
tion could eafily follow. Thofe philofophers
tranfported themfelves, in fancy, to the centres
of t^iofe imaginary Circles, and took pleafure in
furyeyiug from thence, all thofe fantaftical mo-
tions, arranged, according to that of harmony
and order, which it had been the end of all their
refearches to beftow upon them. Here, at laft,
they enjoyed tranquillity and repofe which they
Ijad purfued througl^ all the mazes of this 'in-
tricate hypothefis; and here they beheld this,
the mo^ beautiful and magnificent part of the
gre?it theatre of nature, fo difpofed and con-
:9ru£led, that they could attend, with eafe and
<^elight, to all the revolutions and changes that
Qccurred in it,

Thefe, the Syftem of Concentric, and that of
]Eccentric Spheres, feeip to have been the two
Syfiems of Aftronomy, t(iat had moil credit and
reputation with that part of the ancient world,
who applied themfelves particularly to tbe ftudy
of the heavens. Cleauthes, however, and the
other philofophers of the Stoical fed who came
^fter him, appear to have had a fyftem of their
own, quite different from either. But, though
juftly renowned for their Ikill in dialeflic, and
for the fecuriiy and fublimity of their moral doc- ,
trines, thofe fages feem never to have had any
high reputation for their knowledge of the hea- |
yens ; neither is the name of any one of them
ever counted in the catalogue of the great aftro^ |

nomcrs, ,

HISTORY OF ASTROMOMY. 5j

j^omers^ and ftudious obfervcrs of the Stars,
^mong the ancients. They rcjefted the doftrinq
of the Solid Spheres ; and maintained, that the
celcftial regions were filled with a fluid ether, o£
too yielding a ' nature to carry along with it, by
any motion of its own, bodies fo iromenfely great
as the Sup, Moon, and Five Planets. Thefc,
tbcrefore, as well as the Fixed Stars, did not
derive their motion from the circumambient bo**
dy, but had each of them,* in itfelf, and pecu-
liar to itfelf, a vital principle of motion, whiclit
direfted it to move with its own peculiar velo-r
city» and its own peculiar direftion. It was by
this internal principle, that the Fixed Stars rc*»
Tolycd diredly frpm eaft to weft in circles paral«
Xel to the Equator, greater br lefs, accgrdhig
to their diftance or neamefs to the Poles, and
M^ith velocities fo proportioned, that each of them
finifhed its diurnal period in the fame time, in
fomething lefs than twenty-three hours and fifty-
fix minutes. It was, by a principle of the fame
kind, that the Sun moved weft wards, for they
allowed of no eaftward motion in the heavens^
but with lefs velocity than the Fixed Stars, fo as
to finifli his diurnal period in twenty-four hours,
and, confequendy, to fall every day behind them,
by a fpace of the heavens nearly equal to that
which he paffes over ' in four minutes ; that is,
uearly equal to a degre?. This revolution of the
Sun, too, was neither dire^ly weft wards, nor
exafilly circular ; but after the Summer Solftice,
bis niotion began gradually to incline a little fouth<«

wards,

5& HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

wards, appearing in his meridian to-day, furtheF
fouth than yefterday ; and to-morrow ftill further
fouth than to-day ; and thus continuing every day
to defcribe a fpiral line round the Earth, which
carried him gradually fiirther and further fouth-
wards, till he arrived at the Winter Solfticc-
Here, this fpiral line began to change its direc-
tion, and to bring him gradually, every day,
further and further northwards, till it again rc-
ftored him to the Summer Solftice^ In the fame
inanner they accounted for the motion of the
Moon, and that of the Five Planets, by fuppofing
that each of them revolved weft wards, but with
direAions, and velocities, that were both di£fer-
ent from one anpther, and continually varying j
generally, however, in fpherical lines, fomewhac
|acfined tQthe £quatort

This fyftem feems never to have had the vogue.
The fyftem of Concentric as well as that of Ec-
centric Spheres gives fome fort of reafon, both
for the conftancy and equability of the mqtion of
the Fixed Stars, and for the variety and uncer-
tainty of that of the Planets, Each of them be-
ftow fome fort of coherence upon thofe apparent-
ly disjointed phsenomena. But t^is other fyftem
feems to leave them pretty much as it found them.
A{k a Stoic, why all the fixed Stars perform their
daily revolutions in circles parallel to each other,
though of very different diameters, and with ve-
locities fo proportioned, that they all iinifli their
^period at the fame time, and through the whole

courfe

HlSTbRir O^ ASTkONOMY. 57

courfe of it jjpreferve the fame diftance and fitua*
tion with regard to one another ? He can give no
other aiifwer> but that the peculiar nature, or
if one may fay jfo, the caprice of each Star dire£l$
it to move in that peculiar manner* His fyftem
affordii him no principle of connexion, by which
lie can join together, in his imagination, fogireat
a number of harmonious revolutions* But either
of the other two fyftems, by the fuppofition of
the folid firmament, affordd this eafily. He id
equally at a lofs to conneA together the peculia-
rities that are Obferved in the motions of the other
heavenly bodies ; the f^iral motion of them aU ;
their Alternate progreffion from north to fouth^
and from fouth to north ; the fotnetimes accele-
>tated, and again retarded motions of the Sun and
Mo6n ; the direct iretrograde and ilationary ap-
pearancek of the Planets; All thefe have, in his
fyflem, no bond of union, but remain as loofe
and incoherent in the fancy, as they at firft ap-
peared to the fenfes, befoJre philofophy had at-
tempted, by giving them a new arrangement, by
placing them at different diflances, by afiigning
to eaeh fome peculiar but regular principle of mo-
tion, to methodize and difpofe them into an order
that Ihould en^ljle the imagination to pafs as
fmoothly, and with as little embarrafTment, along
them, as along the moft regular, familiar^ and
coherent appearances of nature.

Such were the fyftems of Aflronomy that,.in
the ancient world, appear to have been adopted ,

by

j8 History of astronoi^y.

by any confiderable party. Of all of them, the
fyftem of Eccentric Spheres was that which cor*
refponded moft exaftly with the appearance of
the heavens. It was not invented till after thofe
appearances had been obfervcd, with fonie accu-^
racy, for more than a century together ; and it
was not completely digefted by Ptolemy till the
reign of Antoninus, after a much longer courfc
of obfervations. We cannot wonder, therefore,
that it was adapted to a much greater number of
the phsfenomena, than either of the other two fyf-
tems, which had been formed before thofe phise-
nomena were obferVed with any degree of atten-
tion, which, therefore, could conned them to-
gether only while they were thus regarded in the
grofs, but which, it could not be expefted, fliould
apply to them when they came to be confidered
in the detail. From the time of Hipparchus,
therefore, this fyftem feems to have been pretty
generally received by all thofe who attended par*-
ticularly to the ftudy of the heavens. That aftro-
Bomer firft made a catalogue of the Fixed Stars ;
calculated, for fix hundred years, the revolutions
of the Sun, Moon, and Five Planets ; marked
the places in the heavens, in which, during all
that period, each of thofe bodies fhould appear;
afcenained the times of the eclipfes of the Sun
and Moon, and the particular places of the
Earth in which they fhould be vifible. His cal-
culations were founded upon this fyftem, and as
the events correfpouded to his prediftions, with
a degree of accuracy which^ though inferior

. to

JttSTORY OlF ASTRONOMY. 59

to what Aftronomy has fincie arrived at, was great-
ly fuperior to any thing Avhich the world had
then known, they afcertained, to all aftrono-
inets and mathematicians, the preference of his
lyftem, above all thofe which had been current
before it.

It was, however, to aftronomers and mathe-
maticians only, that they afcertained this ; for,
notwithftanding the evidetit fuperiority of this
fyftenj, to all thofe with which the world was thea
ac(juainted, it was never adopted by any one
fed of philofophei-s.

PhiloFophers, long before the days of Hippar-
cbus, feem to have abandoned the ftudy of nature,
to employ themfelves chiefly in ethical, rhetori-
cal, and dialeflical queftions. Each party of them
too, had by this time completed their peculiar
fyftem or theory of the univerfe, and no human
confideration could then have induced them to
give up any part of it. That fupercilious and ig-
norant contempt too, with which at this time they
regarded all mathematicians, among whom they
counted aftronomers, feems even to have hin-
dered them from enquiring fo far into their doc-
trines, as to know what opinions they held. Nei-
ther Cicero nor Seneca, who have fo often occa-
fion to mention the ancient fyftems of Aftrono-
my, take any notice of that of Hipparchus. His
wme is not to be found in the writings of Seneca.

It

iSb iflSTOltY OF ASTkoNOMY-

It is mentioned but ckct in thofe of Cicero^ in
letter tb Atticiis, but without anj^ not^ of apprc
bation» as a geographer, and ndt as an aflronomei
Plutarch, wheii he counts up, in his lecond boob
Concerning the opinions of philofopbers, all th
tocient fyftems of Aftrondiny; never mention
this, the only tolerable one trhich was known ir
his time. Thofe three authors^ it feems^ converf
ed only with the writings of phllofophers. The
elder Pliny indeed, a ihan whofe curiofity extend-
ed itfelf equally to every part of learatng, defcribes
the fyftem 6f Hipparchus, and never mentions its
author, which he has no occaiidn to do Often,
without fome note of that high admiration which
he had fo juftly conceived for his merit. Such
profound ignorance in thofe profefled inflru&ors
of mankind, with regard to fo important a part of
the learning of their own times, is fo very remar-
kable, that I thought it deferved to be taken no*
tice of, even in this ihort account of the revolu-
tions of philofophy.

Syftems in many refpeQs refemble machines. A
machine is a little fyflem, created to perform, as
well as to conned together, in reality, thofe dif-
ferent movements and effedls which the artift has I
occafion for. A fyftem is an imaginary machine j
invented to conned together in the fancy thofe
different movements and effeds which are already
in reality performed. The machines that are firft
invented to perform any particular movement are

always

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. 6f*

always the njoft complex, and filcceeding artifts
generally difcover that, Avith fewer wheels, with
fewer principles of motion, than had originally
been employed, the fame effeAs may be more
eafily produced. The firft fyft^ms, in the fame
manner, are always the moft complex, , and a
particular connedling chain, or principle, is ge-
nerally thought neceffary to unite every two feem-
ingly disjointed appearances : but it often hap- '
pens, that one great conneding principle is af-
terwards found to be fafficient to bind together
all the difcordant phaenomena that occur in a
whole fpecies of things, Ho.w many wheels are
neceffary to carry on the niovements of this ima-
ginary machinci, the fyft em of Eccentric Spheres!
The weftward diurnal revolution of the Firma-
mcnt> whofe rapidity carries all the other hea-
venly bodies along with it, requires one* The
periodical eaftward revolutions of the Sun, Moon,
and Five Planets, require, for each of thofe bo-
dies, another. Their differently accelerated and
retarded motions require, that thofe. wheels, or
circles, fliould neither be concentric with the
Firmament, nor with one another 5 which, more
than any thing, feems to difturb the harmony of
the univcrfe. The retrograde and ftationary ap-
pearance of the Five Planets, as well as the ex-
treme inconftancy of the Moon's motion, re-
quire, for each of them, an Epicycle, another
little wheel attached to the circumference of the
great wheel, which ftill more interrupts the uni-
formity of the fyftem. The motion of the apoge-

F um

«» toStORY O* ASTRONOMY.

um of each of thofe bodies requires, in each of
than, ftill another wheel, to carry the centres of
their Eccentric Spheres round the centre of the
Earth* And thus, this imaginary machine, thougli,
perhaps, more fimple, and certainly better adapt-
ed to the phenomena than the Fifty-fix Planetary
Spheres of Ariftotle, wa6 ftill too intricate and
complex for the imagination to reft in it with com*
plet^ tranquillity and fatirfaAion.

It maintained its authority, however, without
any diminution of reputation, as long as icience
Was at all regarded in the ancient world. After
the reign of Antoninus, and, indeed, after the
age of Hipparchus, who lived almoft three hun-
dred years before Antoninus, the great repmatioa
which the earlier philofophers had acquired, fo
imppfed upon the imaginations of mankind, that
they feem to have defpair^id of ever equalKng
their renown. All human wifdom^ they fup-
pofed, ^as comprehended in the writings of thofe
elder fages. 'to abridge, to explain, and to com-
ment upon them, and thus (how themfelves, at
leaft, capable of underftanding fome of their fub-
lime myfteries, became now the only probable
road to reputation; Proclds and Theon wrote
Commentaries upon the Syftem of Ptolemy ; but,
to have attertipted to invent a new one, would
then have been regarded, not as prefumption, but
as impiety to the memory of their fo miifeh revered i
predMcflbrs.

The i

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. »5

The Tuia of the empire of the Romans, and,
along With it, the fubvcrfion of all law and order,
which happened a few centuries afterwards, pro-
duced the entire negleft of that ftady of the con-
-DcSing principles of nature, to which leifure
and fecurity can alone give occafion. After the
fail of thofe great conquerors and civilizers of
•mankind, the empire of the Califfs feems to have
ioeen the firft ftate under which the world enjoyed
that degree of tranquillity which the cultivation
sof the fciences requires. It was under the protec-
-tion of thofe generous and magnificent princes,
that the ancient philofophy and aftronomy of the
Greeks were reftored and eftabliftied in the Eaft ;
that tranquillity, which their mild, juft, and re-
ligious government diffufed over their vaft empire,
revived the curiofity of mankind, to inquire into
the connedling principles of nature. The fame
of the Greek and Roman learning, which was
then recent in the memories of men, made them
defire to know, concerning' thofe abftrufe fubjefls,
what were the dodirines of the fo much renowned
fages of thofe two nations.

They tranflated, therefore, into the Arabian
language, and ftudied with great eagcrnefs, the
works of many Greek philofophers, particularly
of Ariftotle, Ptolemy, Hippocrates, and Galen.
The fuperiority which they eafily difcovered ia
them, above the rude eflays which their own na-
tion bad yet had time to produce, and which were
fuch, we may fuppofe, as arifc every where in

F z the

ii History of astronomy.

the firft infancy of fcience, ncceffarily detctmia-*
ed them to embrace their fyftetns, particularly
that of Aftronomy i neither were they ever after-*-
wards able to throw off their authority. For^
\though the munificence of the Abaffidcs, the fe*
cend race of the Califfii, is faid to havt fupplied
the Arabian aftronomers with larger and better
inftrumcnts, than any that w^e known to Ptole-
my and Hipparchus, the ftudy of tlie fcienceit
feems, in that mighty empire, to have been either
of too fliort, or too interrupted a continuance*
to allow them to make any confiderable correc-
tion in the doftrines of thofe old mathematicians^
.The imaginations of mankind had not yet got time
.to grow fo familiar with the ancient fyftems, as to
regard them without fome degree of that aftonifh*
ment which their grandeur ^nd novelty e:acited ;
a novelty of a peculiar kind, which had at once
the grace- of what was new, and the authority
of what was ancieiit. They were ftill, therefore^
too much enflaved to thofe fyftems, to dare to de-
part from them^ when thofe confuiions which
ihook, and at laft overturned the peaceful throne
of the Califfs, baniflied the ftudy of the fcience
from that empire^ They had, however, before
this, made Ibme confiderable improvements :
they had meafured the obliquity of the Ecliptic,
with more accuracy than had been done before.
•■ The tables of Ptolemy had, by the length of time,
and by the inaccuracy of the obfervations upon
which they were founded, become altogether
wide of what was the real iituation of the heaven*

HISTORY OF astronomy; €f

ty bodies, as he himfelf indeed had foretold they
would do. It became neceffary, therefore, to
form new ones, which was accordingly executed
by the orders pftheCaliffAlmamon, under whom,
too, was made the firft menfuration of the Earth^
that we know of, after the commencement of the
ChriAian JErZj by two Arabian aftronomers, who,
in the plain of Sennaar, meafured two degrees of
it$ circuipference.

The viftorious arms of the Saracens carried inV
to Spain the learning, as well as the gallantry,
oftheEaft; and along with it, the tables of AI-
foamon, and the Arabian tranflations of Ptolem}^
and Ariftotle ; and thus Europe received a fl(«^
cond time, from Babylon, the rudiments of the
fdence of the heavens. The writings of JPtolemy
were tranflated from Arabic into Latin ; and this
Peripatetic philofophy wa^ ftudicd in Averroes
and Avicenna with as much eagernefs, and with
as much fubmifiion to its dodirines ia the weftj as
it had been in the Saft^

The doftrine of the Solid Spheres had, origi-
nally, been invented, in order to give a phyfical
account of the revolutions of the heavenly bodies,
according ^o the fyftem of Concentric Circles, to
which that dodrine was very eafily accommodat-r
td. Thofe mathematicians who invented the doc-
trine of Eccentric Circles and Epicycles, con*
tented themfelves with (hewing, how, by fuppo*
iing the heavenly bodies to revolve infuch orbit^

*the

6^ HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY,

the pfc*OQmciia tol^t be conneatd togHth^r,

and fome fort of uniformity and coherence be-

beftowed upon their real motions. The pby-

•fical catifes of thofe motions they left to the

confideration of the philofophers ; though, a»

appears from fome paffages of Ptolemy, they

had fome general apprehcnfion, that they Mfere

to be , explained by a like hypoihefis; But,

though the fyftem of Hipparchus was adopted

by all aftronomers and mathematicians, it never

irafelreceived, as we have already obferved, by

any one fe£i of philofophers among the ancients,

JJo attempt^ thwrefiare, feewa.to.have been mada

jWQoagft them, to accommodate to it any fuch

hypotheii^.

t

The fchoolmefi, who received, at once, front
ihe Arabians, the phildfophy of Ariftbtle, and
the aftronoiny df Hipparchtis, were netcflarily
obliged to reconcile them to one another, and
to conncft together the revolutions of thq Ec-r
centric Circles and Epicycles of the one, by
the folid Spheres of the other. Many difFerent
attempts of this kind were made by niany dif-
ferent philofophers : but, of them all, that of
Purbach, in the fifteenth century, was the hap-
pieft and the moft efteemed. Though his hy*
pothefis is the fimpleft of any of them, it would
be in vain to defcribc it without a fchemej
neither is it eafily intelligible )vith one : for, if
th« f;^ftem of Eccentric Circles and Epicycles
WK» before too perplexed aad intricate for the

imaginatioA

HBTOHY Of A8TRONOMT, 0f

imagination to reft in it, with complete- <rafi-
quillity and fatisfadion, it became much mora
fo, when thia addition had been made to it.
The world, juftly indeed, applauded the inge?
nmty of that philofopher, who could unite, fo
happily, two fuch feemingly inconfiftent fyf*
lema. His labours, however, feem rather to
ha:ve increafed than to have diminiihed the
caufes of that diflatisfadion, which the learned
foon began to feel with the fyftem of Ptolemy.
He, as well as all thofe who had worked upon
the fame plan before him, by rendering this
account of things more complex, rendered it
fiill more embarraffing thsm it had been be^
fore.

Neither waa the complezneis of this fyfteia
the fole caufe of the diflatisfaftion, which the
world in general began, foon after the days of
Purbach, to exprefs for it. The tables of Pto*
lemy having, upon account of x\^ inaccuracy
i>f the obfervations on which they were £>ux^
ed, become altogether wide of the real fituation
of the heavenly bodies, thofe of Almamon, ia
the ninth century, were, upon the fame hypo^
theiis, compofed to cprred their deviations.
Thefe again, a few ages afterwards, became»
for the fame reafon, equally ufelefe. In the
thirteenth century, Alphonfus, the philofophi*
cal king of Caftile, found it necefiary to give
orders for the compoiition of thoie tables, vhich
bear his name. It is h?, wl^o i» fo well knomi

for

6« HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

for the whimfical impiety of ufing to fay, that,
had he been confuhed at the creation of the-
tiniverfe, he could have given good advice ;
an apophthegm which is fuppofed to have pro-
ceeded from his diflike to the intricate fyftem
of Ptolemy. In the fifteenth century, the de-^
viation of the Alphonfine tables begaa to be
as fenfibte, as thofe of Ptolemy and Almamon
had been before. It appeared evident, there-,
fore, that, though the fyftem of Ptolemy might,
in the main, be true, certain correftions were
necefiary to be made in it before it could be
brought to correfpond with exa6l preciiion to
the phaenomena. For the revolution of his
Eccentric Circles and Epicycles, fuppofing them
to cxift, could not, it was evident, be precifely
fuch as he reprefented them^ iince the revolu-
tions of the heavenly bpdies deviated, in a
ihort time, fo widely from what the moft exatA
calculations, that were founded upon his hy-
potheiis, reprefented them. It had plainly,
therefore, become neceflary to correft, by more
accurate obfervations, both the velocities and
dire^ions of all the wheels and circles of which
his hypothefis is compofed. This, accordingly,
was begun by Purbach, and carried on by Re-
giomontanus, the difciple, the continuator, and
the perfeder of the fyftem of Purbach; and
one, wh9fe untimely death, . amidft innumerable
projects, for the recovery of old, and the in-
vention and advancement of new fciences,* is,
tjven at this day, to be regretted,

WheA

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. tfgi

Mi^hcn you have convinced the world, that
an eftablifhed fyftem ought to be corredlcd, it
is not very difficult to pcrfuade them that it
ihould be deftroyed. Not long, therefore, after
the death of Regioipontanus, Coperoicus began
to meditate a new fyftem, which ftiould connect
together the celeftial appearances, in a more
fimple as well as 4 more accurate manner, than
that of Ptolemv*

nrhe cenfufion, in which the old hypothefia
reprefented the motions "of the heavenly bo*?
dies, was, he tells us, what firft fuggefled to
him the deiign of forming a new fyftem, that
thefe, the nobleft works of nature, might no
loager appear devoid of that harmony and pro-
portion which difcover themfelves in her mean*-
eft productions. What moft of all diffatisfied
hina, was, the notion of the Equalizing Circle,
which, by reprefenting the revolutions of the
Celeftial Spheres, as equable only, when fur^
veyed from a point that was different from their
centers, introduced a real inequality into their
motions ; contrary to that moft natural, and
indeed fundamental idea, with which all the
authors of aftropomical fyftems, Plato, Eudox-
us, Ariftotle, even Hipparchus and Ptolemy
themfelves, had hitherto fct out, that the real
motions of fuch beautiful and divine obje6ls
muft neceffarily be perfefily regular, and go on,
in a manner, as agreeable to the imagination,
as the obje^ls themfelves are to the fenfes.

TO HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

He began to confider, therefore, whether, by
fuppofing the heavenly bodies to be arranged
in a different order from that in which Arif-»
totle and Hipparchus had placed them, this fo
much fought for uniformity might not be be-
llowed upon their motions. To difcovcr this
^rangement, he examined all the obfcure tra-
ditions delivered down to ns, concerning every
other hypoiliefis wbicl^ the ancients had invent-
ed, for the fan^e purpofe, He found, in Plu-
tarch, that fomc old Pythagoreans had repre-
feuted the Earth as revolving in the centre of
the univerfe, likp a wheel round its own axis ;
and that others^ oif the faipe fe6l, had removed
it from the centre^ and reprefented it as re-
volving in the Ecliptic like a flar round the cen-
tral fire. By this central fire, he fuppofed they
meant the Sun; and though in this he waa
very widely mifiaken, it wa^, it feems, upon
this interpretation, that he began to confider
^low fach an hypothefis might be made to cor^
refpond to the appearances. Th<; fuppofed au-
thority of thofe old philpfophers, if it did not
originally fuggeft to him his fyftem, feems, sit
leaft, to hav^ confirmed him in an opinion,
which, it is not impiobable, that be had be*
fore-hand other reafon? for embracing, notwitb-
Handing what he himfelf woqid affirm to the
contrary-
It then occurred to him, that, if the Earth
was fuppofed to revolve every day round iu

axis,

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY, 71

xls> from weft to eaft, all the heavenly bodies
I'ould appear to revolve, in a contrary dircc-
ion, from eaft to weft. The diurnal revolution
>f tlic heavens, upon this hypothefis, might be
3nly apparent ; the firmament, which has no
otker fenfible motion, might be perfeftly at reft;
while the Sun, the Moon, and the Five Pla-
nets, might have no other movement befidc that
eaQward revolution, which is peculiar to them-
fclves. That, by fuppofmg the Earth to revolve
with the Planets, round the Sun, in an orbit,
w hich comprehended within it / the orbits of
Venus and Mercury, but was comprehended
withia thofe of Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, he
could, without the embarraffiqent of Epicycles,
coaiie6t together the apparent annual revolu-*
tions of the Sun, and the dired, retrograde,
and ftationary appearances of the Planets : that
while the Earth really revolved round the Sua
on one fide of the heayens, the Sun would ap-
pear to revolve round the Earth on the other ;
that while fhe really advanced in her annual
courfe, he would appear to advance eaftward
10 that movement which is peculiar to himfelf.
That, by fuppofing the axis of the Earth to be
always parallel to itfelf, not to be quite per*
pendicular, but fomewhat inclined to the plane
of her orbit, and confequently to prefent to the
Sun, the one pole when on the one fide of him,
and the other when on the other, he would
account for the obliquity of the Ecliptic; the
Sun's feemingly alternate progrefi^n frorn north

to

1ft PISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

to fouth, and from fouth to nortb, the confe<r
quent change of the feafons, and difierent
lengths of days and nights in the differeat fea-
fons.

If this new hypothefis thus connefled toge-
ther all thefe appearances as happily as that of
Ptolemy, there were others which it conne&ed
together much better. The three fuperior Pla-
nets, when nearly in conjundlion with the Sun,
appear always at the greateft diftancc from the
Earth, are fmalleft, and lead fenfible to the eye,
and feem to revolve forward in their dire6l
motion with the greateft rapidity, • On the con-
^ary, when in oppofition to the Sun, that is,
-when in their meridiaii about midnight, they
appear neareft the Earth, are largeft, and moft
fenfible to the eye, and feem to revolve back-
ivards in their retrograde motion. To explain
thefe appearances, the fyftcm of Ptolemy fup-
pofed each of thefe Planets to be at the upper
part of their feveral Epicycles, . in the one cafe;
and at the lower, in the other. But it afford-
ed no fatiefa&ory principle of connexion, which
could lead the mind eafily to conceive how the
Epicycles of thofe Planets, whofe fpheres were
fo diftant from the fphere of the Sun, ihould
thus, if one may fay fo, keep time to his mo-
tion, The fyftem of Copernicus afforded this
eafily, and like a more fimple machine, withr
out the affiftance of Epicycles, conne&ed toge-
ther, by fewer movements, the complex ap-
pearances

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY- 7J

pearacced of the heavens. When the fuperior
Planets appear nearly in conjundion with the
Sun, they are then in the fide of iheir orbits,
which is almoft oppdfite to, and moft diftant
from the Earth, and therefore appear fmalleft,
and leaft fenfible to the eye. But, as they then
revolve in a dirc6lion which is almoft contrary
to that of the Earth, they appear to advance
forward with double velocity; as a fliip, that
fails in a contrary diredion to another, appears
from that other, to fail both with its own ve-
locity, and the velocity of that from which it is
feen. On the contrary, when thofe Planets arc
in oppoiition to the Sun, they are on the fame
fide of the Sun with the Earth, are neareft it,
moft fenfible to the eye, and revolve in the
fame dircftion with it ; but, as their revolutions
round the Sun are flower than that of the Earth,
they are neceffarily left behind by it, and there-
fore feem to revolve backwards; as a ftiip
which fails flower than another, though it
fails in the fame diredlion, appears from that
other to. fail backwards. After the fame man-
ner, by the fame annual revolution of the
Earth, he connedled together the direft and
retrograde motions of the two inferior Planets,
as well as the ftationary appearances of all the
Five.

There are. fome other particjalar phaenomena
of the two inferior Planets, which correfpond
ilill better to this fyftem, and ftill worfe to

that

^4 HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

that of Ptolemy. Venus and Mercury fe^m
attend conftamly upon the motion of the Su
appearing, fometimes on the one fide, and foaii
times on the other, of that great luminarj
Mercury being almoft always buried in his ray;
and Venus never receding above forty-eight dc
grees from him, contrary to what is obfervei
in the other three Planets, which are oftei
feen in the oppofite fide of the heavens, a
the great eft poffible diftance from the Sun. The
fyftem of Ptolemy accounted for this, by fup-
pofing that the centers of the Epicycles oi
thefe two Planets were always in the fame line
with thofc of the Sun and the Earth ; that they
appeared therefore in conjunAion with the Sun,
when either in the upper or lower part of their
Epicycles, and at the grcateft diftance from
him, when in the fides of them. It affigned,
however, no reafon why the Epicycles of thefe
two Planets ftiould obfervc fo different a rule
from that which takes place in thofe of the
other three, nor for the enormous Epicycle of
Venus, whofe fides muft have been forty-eight
degrees diftant from the Sun, while its center
was in conjundion with him, and whofe dia-
meter muft have covered more than a quadrant
of the Great Circle. But how cafily all tbcfc
appearances coincide with the hypothefis, which
reprcfents thofe two inferior Planets revolviflg
round the Sun in orbits comprehended within
the orbit of the Earth, is too obvious to require
an explanation. i

Thus

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY; 75

Thus far did tbis new account of things render
the appearances of the heavens more complete-
ly coherent than had been done by any of the
former fyftems. It did this, too, by a more fim-
ple and intelligible, as well as more beautiful
machinery. It reprefented the Sun, the great
enlightener of the univerfe, whofe body was
alone larger than all the Planets taken together,
as eftablifhed immoveable in the center, ftied-
ding light and heat on all the worlds that circu-
lated around him in one uniform direftion, but
m longer or Ihortcr periods, according to their
different diftances. It took away the diurnal
revolution of the firmament, whofe rapidity,
upon the old hypothefis, was beyond what even
thought could conceive. It not only delivered
the imagindticFn from the embarrafltnent of Epi-
cycles, but from the difficulty of conceiving
thefe two oppofite motions going on at the fame
time, which the fyftem of Ptolemy and Arifto-
tle bellowed upon all the Planets ; I mean, their
diurnal weftward, and periodical eaftward revo-
lutions. The Earth's revolution round its owa
axis took away the neceffity for fuppofmg the
firft, and the fecond was eafily conceived when
by itfelf. The Five Planets, which feem, upon
all other fyftems, to be objedls of a. fpecies by
ihemfdves, unlike to every thing to which the
imagination has been accuftomed, when fuppof-
cd to revolve along with the Earth round the
Sun, were naturally apprehended to be objects
of the fame kind with the Earth, habitable,

opaque.

ij6 HISTDRY OF ASTRONOMY^

opaque, and enlightened only by the rays of thd
Sun. And thus this hypothefis, by clafling them
in the fame fpecies of things, with an oLjefi
that is of all others the moft familiar to us,
took off that wonder and uncertainty which the
ftrangenefs and fingularity of their appearance
had excited ; and thus far, too, better aafwered
the great end of Philofophy.

Neither did the beauty and fimplicity oi this
fyftem alone recommend it to the imagination ;
the novelty and unexpedednefs of that view of
nature, which it opened to the fancy, excited
more wonder and furprife than the ftrangeft of
thofe appearances, which it had been invented
to render natural and familiar, and thefc fenti-
ments flill more endeared it. For, though it is
the end of Philofophy, to allay that wonder,
which either the unufual or feemingly disjointed
appearances of nature excite, yet (he never tri-
umphs fo much, as when, in order to conne£k
together a few, in themfelves, perhaps, inconfi-
derable objefts, ihe has, if I may fay fo, creat*
ed another conftitution of things, more natural
indeed, and fuch as the imagination can more
eafily attend to, but more new, more contrary to
common opinion and expedation, than any of
thofe appearances themfelves- As, in the in-
flance before us, in order to conned together
fome feeming irregularities in the heavens, and \
^ of which the greater part of mankind have no
QCcaHon to take any notice during the whole I

courfc

HISTOKY OF A3TRONOMY. 77

courfe of their lives, Ihe has, to talk in the hy-
perbolical language af Tycho-Brahe, raaved tl^e
Earth from its foundations, ftopt the revolution
of the Firmament, miade the Sun (land ftill, and
fubverted the whole order of the Univerfe.

Such were the advantages of this new hypo-
ihcfis, as they appeared to its author, when he
firft invented it. But, though that love of para-
dox:, fo natural to the learned, and that pleafure,
which they are fo apt to take in exciting, by the
novelty of their fuppofed difcovcrics, the amaze-
ment of mankind, may, notwithftanding what
one of his difciples tells us to the contrary, have
had its weight in prompting Copernicus to adopt
this fyftem ; yet, when he had completed his Trea-
life of Revolutions, and began coolly to confider
what a ftrange do&rine he was about to offer to
the world, he fo much dreaded the prejudice of
mankind againft it, that, by a fpecies of conti-
nence, of all others the moft difficult to a philo-
fopher, he detained it in his clofet for thirty
years together. At laft, in the extremity of old
age, he allowed it to be extorted from him, but
died as foon as it was printed, and before it was
publiflied.

When it appeared in the world, it was almoft
univcrfally difapproved of, by the learned as well
as by the ignorant. The natural prejudices of
fenfe, confirmed by education, prevailed tpo
much with both to allow them to give it a fair
G examination.

^t fflSTOUT 69 ASTHONOMf-

cxeminration. A few difcipks only;, wliom lie
himfelf had inftru&ed in his dodriDe, received
it with efieem and admiration. One of them,
Reinholdus, forced, npon this hypothefis, larger
and more acci/rate afironomical tables, than what
accompanied the Treatife of Revolutions^ ia
which Copernicus^ had been guilty of fome er*
K>rs in calculation. It foon appeared^ that thefe
Prutenic Tables, as they were called^ eorre-
fponded more exaAly with the heaTcns, than the
Tables of Alphonfus. This ought naturally to
have formed a prejudice in favour of the dili«
genee and accuracy of Copernicus in obferving
the heavens. But it ought to have formed none
In favour of his hypothefis; fince the fame ob-
fervations, and the refult of the fame calcula**
tions^ might have been accommodated to the fyf-
tern of Ptolemy, without making any greater al-
teration in that fyftem than what Ptolemy had
^orefeen, and had even foretold fhould be made^

*It formed, however, a prejudice in favour of
both, and the learned began to examine, with
feme attention, an hypothefis which afforded the
eafieft methods of calculation, and upon which
the moft exaA prediS;ions had been made«' The

\ fuperior degree of coherence, which it beftewed
upon the celeftial appearances, the fimplicity
which it introduced into the real direAtons and
Velocities of the Planets, foon difpofed many af-
tronomers, iirft to favour, and at laft to embrace
ft fyftem, which thus connedied together fo hap-
pily, the mofk disjointed of thofe objeds that

chiefly

History o» ASTioNoMT. ^

thiefly Occupied their thoughts. Nor can any
thing more evidently demonftratc> how eafily
the learned give up th^ evidence of their fenfcs
to l^refcrve the coherence of the ideas of theii» /
imagiiiation, than the readinefs with which this,
the moil violent paradox in all philofophy, was
adopted by taiany in$2^enious aftronomers^ not^
withtftanding its jnconfiftency with every fyftem
of phyfics then known in the world, and not*
withftanding the great number of other more real
objedlions, to which, as Copernicus left it, thia
account of things was moil juilly ezpofed.

It was adapted, however, nor can this be won-
dered at, by ailronomers only. The learned in
all other fciences, continued to regard it with the
fame contempt as the vulgar^ Even ailronomers
were divided about its merit ; and many of them
rejeded a dodrine, which not only contradided
the cilabliihed fyilem of Natural Philofophy,
but which, coniidered ailronomically only, Teem-
ed to labour under feveral difficulties.

Some of the objedions againil the motion of
the Earth, that were drawn from the prejudices
of fenfe, the patrons of this fyilem, indeed, ea-
fily enough, got oven They reprefented, that
the Earth might really be in motion, though, to
its inhabitants, it feemed to be at reil ; and that
the Sun, and Fixed Stars, might really be at reiV,
though froni the Earth they feemed tp be in mo-
tion ; in the fame manner as a ihip, which fails
G z ^ through

la HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY,

through a fmooth fea, feems to thoFe who are ih
hi to be at reft, though really in motion ; while
the objeds which Ihe pafies along, fcem to be ia
motion, though really at reft.

But there were fome other objedions, which^
though grounded upon the fame natural prejudi-
ces, they found it more difficult to get over.
The Earth had always prefented itfelf to the
fcnfes, not only as at reft, but as inert,' ponder-
ous^ and even averfe to motion* The iinagina-^
tion had always been accuftomed to conceive it
as fuch» and fuffered the greateft violence, when
c4>liged to purfue, and attend it, in that rapid,
motion which the fyftem of Copernicus beftowed
upon it. To enforce their ohjedion, the adver-
fanes of this hypotheiis were at pains to .calcu-
late the extreme rapidity of this motion. They
reprefented, that the circumference of the Earth
had been computed to be above twenty-t,hree
thoufand miles : if the Earth; therefore, was fup^
I)ofed to revolve eveiiy day round its axis, eve*
ry point of it near the equator would pafs over
above twenty-three thoufand miles in a day;
and confequently, near a thoufand miles in an
hour, and about fixteen miles in a minute; a
motion more rapid than that of a cannon ball,
or even than the fwifter progrefs of found. The
rapidity of its periodical revolution was yet more
violent than that of its' diurnal rotation. How,
therefore, could the imagination ever conceive
fo ponderous a body to be naturally eadowed
• with

HISTORY OF ASTROKOMY^ |l

^th fo dreadful a movement? The Peripatetio
Philofophy, the only philofophy then known in
the world, ftill further c<mfirmed this prejudice.
That philofophy, by a very natural, though,
perhaps, groundlefs diftinaion, divided all mor
tion into Natural and Violent, Natural motion
was that which flowed from an innate tendency
in the body, as when a ftone fell downwards;
Violent motion, that which arofe from external
force^ and which was, in fome mcafure, con^.
trary to the natural tendency of the body, aa
when a ftone was thrown upwards, or horizon-i
uUy. No violent motion could be lafting; for,
being conftantly weakened by the natural ten-
dency of the body, it would foon be«leftroyed.
The natural motion of the Earth, as was evi,
dent in all its parts, was dowi^wards, in a ftrait
line to the center; as that of fire and air was
upwards, in a ftrait line from the center. It
was the heavens only that revolved n^urally
in a circle. Neither, therefore, the fuppofcd
revolution of the Earth round ita own center,
nor that round the Sun, could be natural mor
tions ; they muft therefore be violent, and cour
fequently could be of no long continuance. It
was in vain that Copernicus replied, that gra-
vity was, probably, nothing elfe befides a ten-
dency in the different parts of the fame Planet,
to unite themfelves to one another; that this
tendency took place, probably, in the parts
of the other Planets, as well as in thofe of the
Earth; tl^at it could very well be united with a

oircular

t# < HIBTOUT Olr ASTRONOMY-

dreular iiiotiorir that it migltt bq eqwlly natu*
ral to the whole body of the Planet, and. to
every part of it ; that his advcrfaries thcinfelves
allowed, that a circular motion was natural to
the heavens, whofe diurnal rerolution \vas in-
finitely more rapid than even that motion which
he had beftowed upon the Earth ; that thoitgh
a like motion was natural to the Earth, it
would ftill appear to be at reft to its inhabi-'
tants, and all the parts of it to tend iu a ilrait
lifie to the center, in the fame manna* as at
prefent. But this anfwer, how fatisfa£lory fo-
ever it may appear to be now, neither did nor
eould appear to be fatisfadlory then. By ftd*
xhhting tbt diftiuAion between natural and vi«
dent moticms, it was founded upon the fame
^orance of mechanical principks with the ob*
je6tion. The fyftcms of Ariftotle and Hippar*
thus fuppofed, indeed, the diurnal motion of
the hAvenly bodies to be infinitely more rapid
than 'even that dreadful movement which Co-
pernicus beftowed upon the Earth. But they
juppofed, at the fame time, that thofe bodies
were obje^s of a 'quite differem fpecies, from
toy we are acquainted with, near the furface
of the Earth, and to which, therefore, it was
lefs difficult to conceive that any fort of motion
might be natural, Thofe objefts, befides, had
Saever prefented themfetves to the. fenfcs, as
tnoving otherv^(ife, or with lefe rapidity, than
thefe fyftettis reprefented them. The imagina-
tion} tb$refo«e^ could fed no difficulty in fol-
lowing

ATSTORT OF ASTROHOMY. $$

lov^g a reprefentatioa wln^h the fe&fes had
rendered quite familiar to it. But when thf
Planets came to be regarded as (6 many Earths,
the cafe was quite altered. The imaginati<>o
had been accuftomed to conceive fuch obje£la
as tending rather to reft than motion ; and thi^
idea of their natural inertnefs, encumbered, if
ime may fay fo» and clogged its flighty when-
tver it endeavoured to purfue them in their pe^
Tiodical courfes, and to conceive them as con^
tinually ruffaing through the celeftial fpaces> with
fieh violent and unremitting rapidity*

Jlor were the firft followers of Copernicus
IMre fortunate in their anfwers to feme othe(
objeftions, which werie founded indeed in the
fme ignorance of the laws of motion^ but
which, at the fame time, were neceflTarily con-
neAed with that way of conceiving tfaingi,
which then prevailed univerlally in the ]learne4
worlds

If the Earth, it wa$ faid, revolved fo ra-»
pidly from weft to eaft, a perpetual wind would
let in from ea(^ to weft, more violent tha^ what
blows in the greateft hurricane ; a ftone, thrown
weftwards, would fly to a much greater difr
tance than one thrown with the fame force; fsaft?
wards t as what moved in a dire&ion, fsontraty
to the motion of the Earth, would necefiarily
pais over a greater portion <^ its farhcHs than
what, with the fame velocity, iwed^long'with

it.

g4 HISTORY OP ASTRONOMY;

it. A ball, it was ftid, dropt from the maft of
a Ihip under fail, . does not fall prfecifely at the
foot of the maft, but behind it ; and in the fame
manner, a ftone dropt from a high tower would
not, upon the fuppofition of the Earth'a mo-
tion, fall precifely at the bottom of the tower,
but weft of it, the Earth being, in the mead
time, carried away caftward from below it. It
is amuiing to obferve, by what fubtile ^and me^
taphyiical evafions the followers of Copernicus
endeavoured to elude this obje^lipn, which, be-
fore the dodrine of the Compofition of Mptioq
had been explained by Galileo, was altogether
unanfwerable. They allowed, that 9, hall dropt
from the maft of a ihip under fail would not fall
at the foot of the maft, but behind it ; becaufe
the hall, they faid, was no part of the ftiip, and
becaufe the motion of the ftiip was natural nei-
ther to itfelf nor to the ball. But the ftone
. wa$ a part of the earth, and the diurnal and
annual revolutions of the Earth were namral
to the whole, and to every part of it, and
therefore to the ftone. The ftone, therefore,
having naturally the fame motion with the Earth,
fell precifely at the bottom of the tower. But
this anfwer could not fatisfy the imagiuatioo,
which ftill found it difficult to conceive how
thefe motions could be natural to the Earth;
or how a body, which has always prefented
itfelf to the fenfes as inert, ponderous, and
gverfe tQ nc^ioa^ ftiould aaturaUy be continu-

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. $f

aUy Mfheeling about both its own axis and the

Sun, with fuch violent rapidity. It was, be-?

fides, argue^ by Tycho Brahc, upon the prin-

«:iples of the fame philofophy, which had' f^f-

ibrded both the objcdion and the anfwer, that

even upon the fuppofition, that any fuch mch

tion w^5 natural to the whole body of the Earth,

yet the ftone, which wa* feparated frora it, could

po longer be a^qated by th^t motion. The

}imb, which is cut off from an animal, lofe$

^fe animal motions which were i^atural to the

whole. The branch, which is cut p^ from the

trunk, lofps that vegetative motion which is

natural to the whole tre^« Even the ipe-

uls, minerals, and ftones, which are dug

out from the bofom of the Earth, lofe thofe

motions which occafioned their produdlion and

encrea£^^ ;ind which were natural to them in

their original flate. Though the diurnal and

annual motion of thfs Earth, therefore, h^d

been natural to them, while they were containeid

in its bofpm ; it could no longer be fp wfaei^

Uicy were fppamed ff om it,

Tycho Brahe, the great reftorer of the fcience
pf the heavens, who had fpent his life, and
wafted hi$ fortune, upon the advancement of
Afironomy, whofe obferv^tions were both more
numerous ^nd more accurate than thofe of all
the aftronomers who had gone before him, was
himfelf fo much ^fie^i^d by the force of this

obj^aio^.

W HISTORY OF ASTRONOMT,

obje6lion, that, though he never mentioned tho
fyftem of Copernicus without fome note of the
high admiration' he had conceived for its au«
thor, he could never himfelf be induced to em^
brace it : yet all his aftronomical obfervations
tended to confirm it. They demondrated, that
Venus and Mercury were fometimes above, and
fometimes below the Sun j and that, confequent»
ly, the Sun, and not the Earth, was the center
of their periodical rcvoliftions. They fliowed,
that Mars, when in his meridian at midnight,
vras nearer to the Earth than the Earth is to th^
Sun; though, when in conjun£iion with the
Bun, he was much more remote from the Earth
than that luminary j a difcovery which was ab*
folutely inconfiftent with the fyiftem of Ptolemy,
vhich proved, that the Sun, and not the Earth,
was the center of the periodical revolutions of
Mars, as well a& of Venus and Mercury; and
which demonftrated, that the Earth was placed
betwixt the orbits of Mars and Venus, They
tnade the fame thing probable with «gard to
Jupiter and Saturn; that they, too, revolved
round the Sun; and that, therefore, the Sun, if
xiot the center of the univerfe, was at leaft, that
of the planetary fyftem. They proved, that
Comets were fuperior to the Moon, and moved
through the heavens in all poflible diredlions;
an obfervation incompatible with the Solid
Spheres of Ariftotle and Purbach, and which,
therefore, overturned the phyfical part, at Icaft,
of the eftabliihed Aftronomy,

All

H13TOXY OP ASTRONOMY, 6y

All thefe obfcrvations, joined to his averfiou
to the fyftem, and perhaps, notwithftanding the
generofity of his charader, fome little jealoufy of
the fame of Copernicus, fuggefted to Tycho the
idea of a new hypothefis, in which the. Earth
continued to be, as in the old account, thft im-
moveable center of the univerfe, round which the
firmament revolved every day from eaft to weft,
and, by fome fecret virtue, carried the Sun, the
Moon, and the Five Planets along with it, not«»
withflanding t^i^rr immenfe diftance, and not*
withftanding that there was nothing betwixt it and
them but the moft f)ui4 ether. But, although all
thefe feven bodies thus obeyed the diurnal revo*
lotion of the Firmament, they had each of them,
as in the old fyftem, too, a contrary periodical
eaftward revplution of their own, which made
them appear to be every day, more or lefs, left
behind by the Firmament. The Sun was the
center of the periodical revolutions of the Five
Planets j the Earth, that of the Spn and Moon.
The Five Plaints followed the Sun in his periodi*
cal revolution tound the Earth, as they did the
Firmament in its diurnal rotation. The three fu-
perior Planets comprehended the Earth within
the orbit in which they revolved round the Sun,
and had each of them an Epicycle to conne6l to-
gether, in the fame manne!: as in the fyftem of
Ptolemy> their dired, retrograde, and ftationa-
ry appearances. As, notwithftanding their im-
jnenfe diftance, they fdlowed the fun in his pe-
riodical revolution round the Earth, keeping al«

ways

U HISTORY OF ASTRONOITT.

ways at an equal diftance from him, they were
^^eceflarily brought much nearer to the Earth
when in oppofition to the Sun, than when in
conjunftion with him. Mars, the neareft ofthemy
when in his meridian at midnight, came within
the orbit which the Sun defcribed round the
Earth, and confequently was then nearer to the
Earth than the Earth was to the Sun. The appear-
ances of the two inferior Planpts were explained,
in the fame manner, a$ in the jyftem of Coperni-
cus, and confequeptly required no Epicycle to
conncfl them. The circles in which the Five
Planets performed their periodical revolutions
round the Syn, ^s well ^s thofe in which the Sua
and Moon performed theirs round the Earth,
were, as both in the old and new hypothefis.
Eccentric Circles, to connect together their diir
ferently accelerated and retarded i^ot^Qns^^

Such was th? fyftem of Tycho Brahe, com^
pounded, as is evident, out of thefe of Ptolemy
find Copernicus; happier than that of Ptolemy,
in the account which it gives of the motions of
the two inferior Planets ; qiore complex, byfup-
poiing the different revolutions of all the Five to
be' performed round two ditferent centers ; the
diurnal roqnd the Earth, the periodical round tlie
Sun J but, in every refpeft, more complex and
more incoherent than that of Copernicus. Such,
however, was the difficulty that mankind felt in
conceiving the motion of the Earth, that it long
balanced the reputation of that otherwife niore

beautiful

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY, 89

beautiful fyftem. It may be faid, that thofc who
confidered the heavens only, favoured the fyf*
tem of Copernicus, which connected fo happUy
ail the appearances which prefented themfelves
there ^ But that thofe who looked upon the Earth,
adopted the account of Tycho Brahe, which«
leaving it at reft in the center of the univerfcj
did lefs violence to the ufual habits of the imagi*^
nation. The learne(^ were, indeed, fenfible of
tbe intricacy, and of the many incoherences of
that fyflem ; that it gave no account why the
Sun, Moon, and Five Planets, fhould follow the
revolution of the Firmament ; or why the Five
Planets, notwithilanding the immenfe diftance of
the three fuperior ones, Ihould obey the periodic
cal motion of the Sun ; or why the Earth, though
placed bet^neen the orbits of Mars and Venus,
ihould remain immoveable in the center of the
Firmament, and conftantly refift the influence of
whatever it was, which carried bodies that were
fo much larger than itfelf, and that were placed
on all fides of it, periodically round the Sun.
Ty^ho Brahe died before he had fully explained
his fyftem. His great and merited renown difpof*
ed many of the learned to believe, that, had hie
life been longer, he would have conneded toge-
ther many of thefe incoherences, and knew me*
thods of adapting his fyftem to fome other appear-
ances, with which none of his followers could
conned it.

The

^6 JttlSTOAT OF ASTRONOMY.

The objcdion'to the fyiiem of Copernicu.^
which was drawn from the nature of motion, am
that was moft infifted on by Tycho Brahe> wai
at laft fully anfwered by Galileo j not, however
till about thirty years after the death of Tycho
. and about a hundred after that of Copernicus. Ii
' was then that Galileo, by explaining the nature
of the compofition of motion, by ihowiog, both
from reafon and experience, that a ball dropt from
the maft of a (hip under fail would fall precifely
* at the foot of the mafi, and by rendering this
do£hine, from a *great number of other inflances,
quite familiar to the imagination, took off, per-
haps, the principal objeftion which had been
made to this hypothecs.

Several other aftronomical difl&culties, which
encumbered this account of things, were remov-
ed by the fame phllofopher. Copernicus, after
altering the center of the world, and making the
Earth, and all the Planets revolve round the Sun,
was obliged to leave the Moon to revolve round
the Earth as before. But no example of any fuch
fecondary Planet having then been difcovered in
the heavens, there feemed flill to be this irregu-*
larity remaining in the fyftem. Galileo, who firft
applied telefcopes to Aftro'nomy, difcovered, by
their afliftance, the Satellites of Jupiter, which,
revolving round that Planet, at the fame time that
they were carried along with it in its revolution,
round either the Earth or the Sun, made it feeni
iefs contrary to the analogy of nature, that the

Moon j

MtSTORT OF ASTRONOJiiY. 5t

Moon ftiould both revolve round the Earth, and
accompany her in her revolution round the Sun.

It had been obje£led to Copernicus, that, iif
Venus and Mercury revolved round the Sun, in
an orbit comprehended within the orbit of the
Earth, they would ihow all the fame phafes with
the Moon, prefent, fometimes their darkened,
and fometimes their enlightened fides to the Earth,
and fometimes part of the one, and part of the
other* He anfwered, that they undoubtedly did
all this ; but that their fmallnefs and diftance hin-
dered us from perceiving it. This very bold af-
fertion of Copernicus was confirmed by Oaliieo.
His telefcopcs rendered the phafes of Venus quite
fenfible, and thus demonftrated, more evidently
than had been done, even by the obfervations of
Tycho Bfahe, the revolution of thefe two Planets
round the Sun, as well as fo far deftroyed the fyf-
tem of Ptolemy.

The mountains and feas, which, by the help
of the fame inftrument, he difcovered, or ima-
gined he had difcovered in the Moon, rendered
that Planet, in every refped, fimilar to the Earth,
made it feem lefs contrary to the analogy of na-
ture, that, as the Moon revolved round the
Earth, the Earth ftiould revolve round the Sun.

The fpots which, in the fame manner, he dif-
covered in the Sun, demonftraiing, by their mo-
tion, the revolution of the Sun round his ajcis,

made

^ HISTORY OF ASTRONOMT.

xhade it feem lefs improbable that the £&rth, fl
body fo much fmaller than the SttD» Ihould re-j
volve round her axis in the fame manner.

Succeeding telefcopical obfervations difcover-
ed^ in each of the Five Planets^ fpots not un-
like thofe which Galileo had obferved in the
Moon, and thereby feemed to demonftrate what
Copernicus had only C0DJe6lured, that the Pla-
nets were naturally opaque, enlightened ouly
by the rays of the Sun, habitable, diverfified
by feas and mountains, and, in every refped»
bodies of the fame kind with the Earth ; and
thus added one other probability to this fyftem.
By difcovering toOj that each of the Planets
revolved round its own axis, at the fame limt
that it was carried round either the Earth or
the Sun, they made it feem quite agreeable to
the analogy of nature, that the Earth, which,
in every other refpeft, refembled the Planets,
ihould, like them too, revolve round its owa
axis, and at the fame time perform its periodical
motion round the Sun.

While, in Italy, the unfortunate Galileo wa«
adding fo many probabilities to the fyftem of
Copernicus^ there was another philofophcr em-
ploying himfelf in Germany, to afcertain, cor-
Tt&, and improve it: Kepler, with great genius,
but without the tafte, or the order and method
of Galileo, pofleffed, like all his other coun-
trymen, the moft laborious induftry, joined to

that

HISTORY OF ASTBtONOMT, 9}

tliat pafllon foe difcovering ppoportioos and re-
feuitlances bctwia the difiereot parts Of naturt;
^wHict, tfaougbfcomihon to all philoropbers, fecai9»
ia hiaiy to Hslys been exceifi>x. He had been
ioRVudfed, hy Mteftlious, in the fyftem of Go-
^ermcas; aud his firft cuxiofity was, as he tells
tis, t6 finidtmi, why the Planets^ the Earth
being couatfcd for one, were Six ia ndmberf
why they were placed at fuch irregular diftanccs
iVom the Sun ; and whether tbeife was any uni'
fortn pr6portion betwixt theit feveral diftancesr,
'and the times ein'ployed in their .periodical re->
Vormidns. Till feme reafon, or proportion of
thfii kind, could be difcovcmd, the fyftem did
cot appear to him to be cofapktely coherent;
He endeavoured, iirft, to find it ia the proptn>
'tions of numbers, and plaih figureii. ; afterwards^
In thofe of the regular folids; and, laft of aU»
in thofe of the mafical divifions of the O&scvc^
Whatever was the fcience which Kepler was
iludying', he feems conftaatly to have pleafed
himfelf with finding fome analogy betwixt it and
the fyftem of the univerfc; and thus, arithmetio
and mufic, plain and folid geoflbctry, came all
of them by turns to illuftrate the do&rine of the
Sphere, in the explaining of which he was, by
his profeffion, principally employed. Tycho
Brahe, to whom he bad prefenied one of his
books, though he could not but difapprove of
his/iy&exn, was pleafed, however, with his ge-
nius, and with his indefatigable diligence in
making the moft laborious calculatibns. That

H generous

U HiSTOitT of AST&dlCOkT.

gefierOHs and ota^nificeiit Dane iu^rited tiie ob-*
fcure and indigent Kepler to come and live
with him, and communicated to Imh ^ ^<^^ ^
he ai-rived, his obfervatioiift tpon Mars, in the
arranging and methodidng of which his difci-
plc^ were at that time employed. Kepler, upon
Comparing them with one another^ founds that
the orbit of Mars was not a perfed circle; that
ene of its diameters was fomewhat longer than
the other; and that it approached to an oyaI»
•r an ellipfe, which had the Sun plskred in one
of its foci^ He founds too, that the motion of
the Planet wa$ not equable; that it was fwifceft
wh^n nearefi the Son^ and floweft when furtheft
from htm; and that its velocity gradually en*
cveafed, or dimioidied, according as it approach-
fd or retcded from him. The obferrations of
the fame aftronomer difcoveted to him, though
not lb evidently, that th^ fame things were true
aif all the other Planets; th^ their orbits were
elliptical, and that their motions w^fe fwifteft
when neareft the Sun, and flowed when furtheft
from him. They ihowed the fame things, t<K),
of the Sun^ if fuppofed to revolve round the
Earth ; and confequ^ntly of the Eartl^ if fup-
pofed to revolve rolmd the Sunv

That the motions of all the heavenly bodies
trere perfe&ly circular, had been the fundament
tal idea, upon which every aftnmomical hypo*
thefis, except the irregular one of the Stoics,
had been built. A circle^ ae the degree of its

curvature

ttmrature is eTttery \vheni the fami^ Ic of |U

curve IiQes the iiinplefl aid^ th< ^B$9ft et^. oim-

ccivcd. \ Since it wafe evidpntj tl^reforc^ ttet

the heavenly hodiea didnpt niQ^e m.flrait.lines>

the indphent iinagia^tSoH founds that it could

tooft eafily mead ta their oiotipbs if they *fwre

fup|K>rei^ ta involve in perfect cindes^ It ihid>

Tipon this account^ deterqiinf^ that a iariidar

motidn was the mod perfed of all motions, and

that none hujt the mofk petffSk |np(iOdi c<>uld be

worthy of fttch b(e&^ti6il a^d cKviae olyeAi;. and

it had iipob this ai3Kiottnt» fo i>ft€la, in vaia^ <1dl'»

deavoured M^ad^ft to thct appearanires^ fo minf

different l^ftcnis, which all fi^ippo^d itheorta^e*

tolve isL thii tajuu^en

the e4^aiky of th^ mi3t]dns Was tmother foft*
damental idea^ whieh, in the fame maniier» ai^
for the fame ]:^afoo» wa* fuppefed* by all the
founders of dlrdnomical fyftema* I^or an equal
Hiotibn can be mo^e eafily attended to^ thaa
one that i$ continually either accelerated or
retarded^ All intonftancy, therefore, was ^-
clared to be unMrorthy thofe bodies whieh re*
Volved in the celeftial regiona^ and to be 4t
only for inferior tnd fublunary things. The
caleuktiona of Kepler oteiiimied, with regat^
to the Planets, both tfaefe ilatural prejudices of
the isiag^natioiii deftroyed their circular orbits;
tnd introduced intd their teal motions, fuch aa
inequality aa no equalising drde would remedy.
h wad» however^ to render thck meliona pcv^
Hz feaiy

llteAly e^u4W^^ ^hhdtit c^eu.the Uffiftafice of in

• equajizing tftfcte, that Copernietij, aaf he htiA-
: <clf aflurci t«, had originally irivintcd his fj^-

tcm.: Sjtiw th^ cikfiktionS of Kcplef, there-
fore, overturned what Coperiifcui had ]f)rinci-
opMy in view in eftiblifhing his fyftem, wc can-
c'HOt wondot ^at thcj^ (houkl at firft feem rather
tatixd>arraf8 thafi ifB^rove i^

' ft is true, bf thefe iillS^tfcil ortits'and ttn-
/ equal moiiofi^ Kepler difengaged the fyftem
'f»>a'the enibahraffmeiit of'thofe ftnall Epicf^
(dfe«, ivMeh Cdperniefts, in order to' connedl
'At ftemingl^ iceelerated and i^et^rded move-
ments of the Planets with their fuppofed retil
equality, had been obliged to leave in it. For
kjia MmarkftMe, thdt though Cbjlfermcus had
idelivcred the orbits of the Planets from tife
^exioi'iiiouB Epie^les of Hipparchus, that though
; in ; this confided the great fuperiority of hia fyf-
*tem abovie tim of the ancient aftrondmers, he
wai yet obliged, hitnfelf) to abandon^ in fome
nifcafure, . ihk »ivantage^ and to make ufe of
•fomc foiall Epicydes, to join ' together thofc
sfeeming irrefuljorities^ ' His Eprcycles indeed,
rUke the irregularities for whofe fake they were
introduced, 'were but fmaU oacs,^ and the ima-
Iginations of his firft foUoiwers feem^ accord-
;illg}ip, either \o ^haTe florred them over altoge-
Ather, or fcarcely Iso have -obferved them. Nel-
tlier Galileo// nor Gafiendi» the two moft elo-
-quent of kis^ dcienders, take ^iny notice of them.

• - Nor

^??:. .^ojf ; it .%^ so chiyp b*ei%: «ei<(n|^ at.
tpadcd tp, t}ii$it |foaiip,wa$ wy fijcfe tMog w E|^
c^cjes ip. tj»e J&fte» of Cop^nicus, till Kepler,
in. o/der to ; -^ikJk^KS ^m own -jdUptjjcil orbits,
i|ilifted,. that cHen^ afiftpjdiii^ to. Ccipespicus, th«
bpdy of thc;.piji^<«,ww.t*.b».iia»ad bjat «>
c>7o difieKot ^pl^c^ io .ifae .. «ir«tti|i)fenence of
t}^at circle whicJ^ tj^ pentfs of :}^ £pi^cle de<
^^xed,. ... . 1 i

IfQcis ^fter a circlc> tl^e ii,mpleft aid jaoft eaiily

4^oaceiyed; aod it i« uvie, b^iidea-^Utbis* tbat>

vbilc Kcpljcr tojpli .ffj»na:thc jnj)jio« of the Plar

^t9 th? efgeft ff al); pfopbtuox^i that of equa^.

lity, h<? 4id n(?t Je^v/j tbfiw abf<)lwitely withoor

^ae, hut: fififro?»»?4' 1*1^ rplie bj^ which their

vdociti^a H9Qfi<ma|ly T^ri^;. for » genius fo

£}ad of sia^ogiee, fihpa he h4d takep away

one, wonl4 be fure to A^bftUpt;^} ap^otfaer ia it$

loom, ^otwit^^aqdi^g ^U tbi#y Pf^wUhftaud-

ipg tba^ hia fyfiem w^$ b^tt^r fuppqvted by obr

fervs^tion^ tban any fyitepi had evev b^en before^

yet, fuch wa^ the ^ttaehqient xq the equal pio^

tioDs. and circular. prbifB pf the PUoets, that

it feems, fctrrftprm^ time, to have been in gene*

ral but little aMiended to by the learned, to

have been altogether pegk^d by philofo^

phersi an4 vot.inuQhi regarded eten by afti^

G^fiendi,

J r

9r isfntnv tof Aiitoseatr.

-CratAfldi;, who began ia figure in tlie WMifd
about th^ latter days of Kepler, and who waa^
bimf^lf no mean aftronoffier^ feema indeed to haw
conceived a good deal of efteem for bis diHgpncc
md acouralry in accomiiQdatHig^ rhc obfenratiooa
ffg Tycbo Bvahe to xhm fyftem of Copernicus*
But Gafibndi appears to kayehad'9pcoinpr()ien-
fioB of t)^ importj^ce of tbofe alterationa which
Kepler had made in that fyftem, as is eyident
from 1^18 fcarcely ever (neation],n| thepi in the
wholo couHe of his volwnmous writinga npon
AftrooioiBy. D^s Cartes, the ^p.temporary and
i£val of Gaiiendi> feem^ to fcfav^ paid no atten*
tion to them at all, but to havf built kia Theory
of (be H^avens> without any re^rd to them.
Sven thof^ j^ftrononlerS) whom a ferious atten*
tion had oonvinced of the juftn^ fi of his corrcc*
tioni, wcre-fiiftfo ^JnaAKnifed wifb the circular
orbits and equal moffions, that they endf avonred
to compound hia fy|tem> with tbofe ancient, but
natural prejodieee. That, Ward endeavoured
to ihow that, though the Planets moved ip ellip-
tical orbits, w&ich bad the Sqn in on^ of t|;ieir
foci, and thouj^ their velocitiea in the ellipti-
cal Rne were continually varying, yet, if a ray
was fuppofed to be extended from the center of
any one of them to the other 6>eu8, and to be
carried along by the periodical motion of the
Pknet, it would make equal angles in equal times,
and confequently cut off equal portions of the
circle of which that other focus was the center.
To one, therefore, placed in that focus^ the mo-
tion

9IIST0RY OF AffTRONOMT. S9

tMm of the Planet would appear 19 be per&QIj
eircular aqd perfedly equable, in the fame inan-
ia.cr as in tbe Squalixing Circles of Ptolemy and
liipparelma. Thus Bouillaud, who cenfured this
kjrpothefia of Warcj^ invented another of the
fame kind, infinitely more whimfical and caprif
ciout. Thte PUnets, according to that aftrono-
mer, always revolve in circles ; for that being
the moft periled figure, it is impofilble the]{f
ihould revolve in any other. No one of theai»
howeveri continues tq move in any one cirde^
but is perpetually pafling from one to another^
through all infinite pumber of circles, in tb^
courfe of each revolution ; for an ellipfe, laid he,
is an oblique ^ion of ^ cone, and in a cone,
betwixt the two vortices fif th^ ellipfe there is
an infinite number qf circles, out of the infi^
aitely fmall pqrtions of which the elliptical line
]s compounded. The Plftnet, tb^efore, which
moves in this line, is^ in every poinf of \^ mov?
ing in an infinitely fmall portion pf a cerui^ cir^
cle. The motion of each Planet, foo^ according
to him, was nef^flarily, for the fame: ifftSQn, per-
feAly eqoable^ A^ equable motion being the
moft perfeA of s^U motions^ It was not, how^
ver, in the elliptical line, that it was equable,
but in my one of the circles that were parallel
to tbe bafe of that cone, by whofis fe^ion thia
cUipticai Hue had been formed ; for, if a ray was
extended ftom the Planet to any one of tbofe
circks, and carried along by its periodical mo**
uoQ> it would cut eff equal portions of that cir*

cle

159056

icb HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

"cle in equal times ; another moft fantafticat eqma*
liziiig circle, fnpported by another fbund^tion
befi^^s theirivolous connexion betwiirt a con«
and an ellipfc, and recommended by nbtbing but
the naturarpaflion for circular orbits and cqunble
xnotidns. It may be regarded as the bill eft>rt of
this paffion, and may fervc to fhow tlie ibrce
of that principle which could thus oblige thi^ ao?
curate obferver, and great improver of the Tbco^
ry of the Heavens, to adopt To ft range an ^hypo-
thefis. Such was the difficulty and hefitation
with which the followers of Copernicus adopted
the correftions oiP Kepler,

* The rule, indeed, which Kepkr afcettainecl
fprdetermining the gradual acceleration or retar«
dation in the movement of the Planets, was in-
tricate, and difficult to be comprehended; it
could therefore but little facilitate the progrefa of
the imagination in tracing thofe revolutions which
were fuppofed to be condu£led by it. According
to that aftronomer, if a firait line was drawn from
the center of each Planet to the Sun, and carri-
ed along by the periodical motion of the Planet,
it would defcribe equal areas in oqual times,
though the Planet did not pafs ovier equal fpaces ;
and the fame rule, he found, took place nearly
with regard to the Moou. l*he imaginatioD,
when acc^uainted with the law by which any mo-
tion is accelerated or retarded, can follow and at-
tend to it more eafily, than when at a lofsi, and^
as it were, wandesing in uncertainty with xe^

gard

inSTORY OF iySTRONOMT. ^q;

gard ip the prpportion which regulates its v«ric*
lie^ ; tl^ difcqvery of thi^ analogy therefore, nq
4ovibt> rendered the fyftetp qf Kepler more a-
gree^ble to the natural tafte of maokind : it was,
howeyei:, an analogy too difficult to be followed,
or coiiipre{)ended, to reader it completely fo.

Kepler, hjeiides this, introduced ^pother ne\T
tnalogy into the fyftem, and firft difcovered, tha^
there was pne uniform relation obferved betwixt
|he diftan^^es of the Planets from the Sun, and
|he times employed in their periodical piotions.
He foui^,- tt^at their perjoc^ic^l tiqies \v^ere great-
er than in proportion t9 their diftan(:es, ai;d l^fs
than in proportion tp the fquares of thofe dif-
tances ; but, t^at they were nearly as the mean
proportionals betv^i^t their difiances and the
fquares of their diftancesj or, in other words,
that the fquares of theiif periodical times were
nearly as the cubes of theif di(tai^ces; ^n analog
gy, which^ though, like al^ others, it no doubt
rendered the fy^lem fon^<;what more diftind and
comprehenfi^le, was, how;ever, as well as the
former^ of too intricate a nature to facilitate ve-
ry .mych t^e effort qf t||ie ima^nation in conceiv-
ing it.

The tru^h of both thefe analogies, intricate as
they were, was at laft fully eft abliihed by the
pbfervations of Ca0ini. That aftronomer firft
difcovered, that the fecondary Planets of Jupi-
ter andSatimi revolve^ xoimd their primary;

ones.

Jo» HTSTORT Of ASTRONOMT.

r

ones^ according to the fame laws wbick Kepler
had obfervcd ki the revplutipns of the primarj
ones round tb^ Sijn, and that of the Moon round
the earth ; that each of them dcfcribed equal
areas in equal times, atid that the fquares of their
periodic times were as the cubes of their dif-
tances. When thefe two laft abftrufc analogies,
which, when Kepler at firft obferved them, were
but little regarded, had been thua found to take
place in the revolutions of the Four Satellites
of Jupiter, and in thofe of the Five of Saturn,
they were now thought not only to confirm the
doilrine of Kepler, but to add a new probabi-
lity to the Copernican hypoihefis. The obfer-
TatiQus of Caffini feem to eftablifh it as a law of
the fyftem, that, when one body revolved round
another, itdefcribed equal areas in equal times ;
and that, when feveral revolved round the fame
body, the fquares of their periodic times were
as the cubes of their diftances. If the Earth
and the Five Planets were fuppofcd to revolve
round the Sun, thefe laws, it was faid, would
take place univerfally. But if, according to the
fyftcm of Ptolemy, the Sun, Moon, and Five
Planets were fuppofed to revolve round the
Es^rth, the periodical motions of the Sun and
Moon would, indeed, obferve the firft of thefe
laws, would each of them defcribe equal areas
in equal times ; but they would not obferve the i
fecond, the fquares of their periodic times would
not be as the cubes of their diftances : and the
^revolutions of the Rvc Planeta would obferve

neither

neither the ooe law nor the other. 6r if» kt^
tordmg to the fyi^em of Tycho Brahf, \he fivt
Planets were fuppofed to reYolve round the Snn,
while the St^n aiMi Moon revolved round the
EartK, the revoIntioDS of the Five Planet? round
theStrn> wottl(). Indeed, bbferve both thefe laws;
but thofe of the Sun and Moon round the Earth
would obferve only the firft of them. The ana-
logy of nature, therefore, could be preferved
completely, according to no qther fyttem but that
of Copernicus, which, upon that account^ mvft
be the trap one. This argument is regarded by
Voltaire, and the Cardinal of Ppfignac, as an ir-
refragable demonfiratron j evep M* Laurin, who
was more capable of judging ; nay, New^n him-
fc\f, feems to mention it as one of the principal
evidences for thd truth of that hypothefis. Yet^
an analogy of this kind, it would feeni, far from
a demonifaration, could afiord, at moft, but the
fluidow of a probability.

It is true, that though Caffini fuppofed thePIa-
nets to revolve in an oblong curve, it was in ^
curve fomewhat different from that of Kepler.
In the eltipfe the fum of the two lines, which are
drawn from any one point ^n the circumference to
the two foci, is always equal to that of thofe
which arc drawn from any other point in the cir-
^mference to the fame foci. In the curve of
Caflini, it is not the fum of the lines, but the rec-
tangles which are contained under the lines, that
are always equal. As this« however^ was a pro-'

portion

^rtioB ipB^re difficult '^o be cpiDpreheaded i^wn,

we.;; :'.,.-.

. I^QthiQg DOW j^mbarca^Ied the fyftem of Copwv
Bicus, biit the difficulty wl^icb the iipagioatioii
felt in Qfincpivjing tfodies fp iqimenfely j^ooderou^
^3 the Earth, and thcothpr Plapet^, revolving
round the; Spp }fviih fucb incredible rapidity. I^
wa^ in vain th^t pppefpicif^ pretendpd» that,
notwithft^ndipg the prejudices of feuiie, this cir?
cular motiqn might be a^ na(ura} tq the Fleets,
as it is tQ a.ftone to £^\\ to the grppndr The ifpar
^nation had been ^c9ufto)iied to coniceive fuch
objeds ^s tending rather, fo reft, than mbtioiu
'^f'his habitual |dea of their natural ;nertnefs was
incompatible with that of their natural niotion.
It was in vain that Kepler, iq order to affift the
fancy jii conn<p6ling tqg^ether this natural inertnefs
"Vvith theirj aftonifhmg velocities, talked of fpin^
vital and immaterial virtue, which was fbed by
the Sun into the furrounding fpaces, which was
whirled about with his reyolqtion round his own
a^is, and which, taking hold qf the PUnet$, forc-
ed them, in fpit^ of their ponderoufnefs and
ftrong prqpenfity to reft, thi;s to whirl about the
center of the fyftem. The iipaginatiqn h»d ao
hold of this immaterial virtue, and could form no
determipate idea of wh^t it confifted in. The
imagination, indeed, felt a g^ip, or interval, be*
(wixtthe confts^nt motion and the fuppofed^ inert-
piefsof the Pl4(petSj ^ud had i^ this^ as in al^ other

cafes.

'ttiSYORY OF A^TRONdMir. 165

tafes, fome general i3ea or apprehenfion that
there muft be a'^cannedmg thain of iritermddiate
objeft^ to link together theft difcardtat qualities.
VVkerein this conne^fibg^hain cdnfifted, it wad,
indeed, at a lofe to'concdre; nor did the doc-
trine of Keprlerfend'it affiy' ^ftanci in this ref-
pea. That doflririe, like almofV afl tHofe'crf the
philofophy in falhion 'duritoghh time; beftowed a.
name upon thi^ inviJBbli^'chkin, fcafllidlt an im-
materiaFTtrtne, '-biA iSbtdcd no dctefminate idea
«f what was its nature- * i - - '

Des Cartes^wfc the fJWV who attempted to af-
tettaui, precifeiy, wKerein'thidinvifible chain con-
fided, and to affbrd the itharfnation a train Of in-
termed! ate evients, which, facceeding each other
in an order that was of all others flie moft familiar
to it, fhould unite thofe incoherent qualities, the
rapid motion, and the natural mertnefs of the
Planets* Des Cartes was the firft who explained
tvherein coniifted the real inertnefs of matter ;
that it was not in an averfion to motion, or in a
}>ropenfity to reft, but in a power of continuing
indifferently either at reft or in motion, and of re-
lifting, wiih a certain force, whatever endeavour-
ed to change its ftate from the one to the other.
According to that ingenious and fanciful philofo-
pher, the whole of infinite fpace was full of mat-
ter, for with him matter and extenfion were the
fame, and confequently there could be no void.
This immenfity of matter, he fuppofed, to be
divided into an infinite number of very fmall

cubes;

io6 filSTOEir Of ASTltd^OHr.

cubes; all of whic]:^ being whirled abmit upon
their own ceatezsj-p^ccfiarily give ^icc^fion to
the produdioii of twb differeot eleioeoit^ The
firflcoDriifVed dfthoTe angular pirts, which, hav-
ing Ibeen n6ceilarilf rubbed diB& and grinde4 yet
fmaller by their auitoal. £nAiaii> cOnftituted the
iBoft fubtllb and moytaUe part of matter: The
fecond<6iifiJ[led of'thofe little gM^^^ ^^ were
formed bj the rubbiug off of the £rft. The intter-
flices bfetwixt tbefe |lofauIes of the iecond eienoent
was filled up by the paMck^ of the firft. ^ But ia
the infinite coUifidns, which muft occur in an in-
finite fjlacc filled \^ith rxftitust, ^d all in luotion^
it muft necieflarily happest^ that many of the glo-
bules of the fecond element 4>ould be broken and
grinded down into the firft. The quantity of the
drft element ha^ving thus been ^ncreafed beyond
what was fiiflicient to fill tip tHe interilices of the
ftttoad, it muft, in many places, have bfien heap-
ed up together, ^hout any mittuie of the fecond
along with it. Siach* accofdmg t6 Des Cartes,
was the Original divifion of matter. Upon this
infinitude of matter thus divided, a certain quan-
tity of motion was originally imprefled by the
Creator of all things, and the laws of motion were
fo adjufted as always to prefenre the fame quan-
tity in it« without increafe, and without diminu-
tion. Whatever motion was loft by one part of
matter, was communicated to fome other; and
whatever was acquired by one part of matter, was
derived from fome other : and thus, through an
eternal revolution, from reft 'to motion, and from

motion

HISTOtr OF ASTRONOl^. 107

moticm torci^ ia cv^ry part of tbe uaiverfe, the
quantiijr of notion in the l^hole was always the
lam^*

But, as there was ho void, no one part of mat-
ter could be moved without thrufting fomc other
out of its place, nor that without thrufting fome
other, and fo on. To avoid, therefore, an infi-
hite progrefs, he fuppofed, that the matter which
aoy body pufiied before it, rolled immediately
backwards, to fupply the place of that matter
which flowed in behind it ; as we may pbferve
in the fmimming of a £fh, that the waterj which
it puOies before it, immediately rolls backwards^
to fuppiy the place of what flows in behind it,
and thus formi a fmall circle or vortex round the
body of the fifli. It was, in the fame manner,
that the motion originally imprelled by the Crea-
tor u|ion the infinitude of matter, neceffaf ily pro-
duced in it an infinity of greater and fmaller vor-
tices, ot circular ftreams : and the law of motion
being fo adjuflcd as always to preferve the fame
quantity of motion in the univerfe, thofe vortices
either continued for ever, or by their dilTolution
give birth to others of the fame kind. There was,
thus, at all times, an infinite number of greater
and fmaller vortices, or circular ftreams, revolv-
ing in the univerfe.

But, whatever moves in a circle, is conftantly
endeavouring to fly oflF from the center of its revo-
lodon. For the natural motion of all bodies is in
aiftraight line. All the particles of matter, there^

fore.

t6« ft«TOAY OF AStRONOMT!

forci m each of thofe greater voHices, #fe^fc coti-
tinually preffing from th^ dtnitt td the citcumfc-
rcnce, with more or Icfs force, according t<> tlui
different degrees of their bulk and folidity. The
largei-and more folid globul^^ of the fecond ele-
ment forced themfelves upwards to thd circumle-
rence, While the fmalter, more yielding, and more
a£liv6 p&rticles of the firft, which could' flow,
fcvcn thfough the interftices of the fecond, . were
forced downwards to the center. They were
fbrced d6Wn^Vards tb the center, not withffan ding
their natural tendency was upwards to the cir-
cumference; for the fArtie reafon that a piece
6f wood, when pltinged in water, is forced, up-
wards to the furface, notwithl^anding its na-
tural tendency is downwards to the bottom;
becaufe its tendency dowtiwafd^ ii lefs llrong
than that of the particles Of water, which, there-
fore, if otie may fay fo, prefs in before it, and
thus force it upwards. But thefe bein^ a great-
er quantity of the firft element than what was
neceffaty to fill up the interfticeS 6f the fecond,
it was neceffarily accumulated in the center of
each of thefe great 6irc<ila'r ftreams, and form-
ed there the fiery fnd adlive fubllancc of tbfe
Sun. For, according to that philofopher, the
Solar Syftems were infinite in fiumber, each
Fixed Star being the center of one : and he is |
among the firfl of the moderns, who thus took
away the boundaries of the Univerfe ; even Co-
pernicus and Kepler, themfelves, having coo^

fined

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. 109

fined it within, what they fuppofed, the vault of
the Firmament*

The centei" of eacli vortex being thus Occu-
pied by the moft a^ive and moveable parts of
mattisr, thete was neceflariry anibng them, a
more violent agitation than in any other part of
the vortex, and this violent agitation of the
center ehetifhid and fupported the movement
of the whole. B)it, among the particles of the
firft element, which fill up the interfficies of the
fecond, there ar^ many, which, from the pref-
fure of the globules on all fides Of them, ne**
ceflarily receive an angulair form, and thus con*-
Aitnte a third element of particles lefs fit for
motion than thofe of the Other two. As the
particles, howevet, of this thiild element were
formed in the Interftices of the fecond, they
are necef&rily fmaller thiin thofe of the fecond,
and are, therefore, alOng with thofb of the firft,
urged down towards the center, where, when
' a number of them hapjpen to take hold of one
another, they form fuch fpotls upoh the furface
of the accumulated particles of the firft ele-
ment, as are often difcoVered by telefcopes
upon the face of thkt Sun, which enlightens
and animates ouir particular fyftem. Thofe
fpots are of^en broken and difpelled, by the
violent agitation of the particles of the firft
element^ as has hitherto happily been the cafe
with thofe which have fucceffively been formed
upon the face of our Sun« Sometimes, how-

I ever.

tio HISTORY OF ASTROHOVY.

ever, they cncruft the whole furface of that
fire which is accumtilated in the center; and
the communication betwixt the moft adive and
the mofl inert parts of the vortex being thus
interrupted, the rapidity of its motion imme-
diately begins to languiih, and can no longer
defend it from being fwallowed up afxd carried
•way by the fuperior violence of fomc other
like circular ilream ; and in this manner, what
was once a Sim, becomes a Planet. Thus^
the time was, according to this fyftem, when
the Moon was a body of the fame kind with
the Sun, the firey center of a circular fiream of
cther> which flowed continually tound her ; but
her face having been crufted over by a con-
geries of angular particles, the motion of this
circular ftream began to languifh, and could no
longer defend itfelf from being abforbed by the
more violent vortex of the Earth, which was
then, too, a Sun, and which chanced to be
placed in its neighbourhoods The Moon, there*
fore, became a Planet, and revolved round the
Earth- In procefs of time, the fame fortune,
which bad thus befallen the Moon, befell alfo
the Earth; its face was encrufied by a grofs
and inadive fubftance i the motion of its vor^
tex began to languifh, and it was abforbed by
the greater vortex of the Sun: but though the
vortex of the Earth had thus become languid,
it Aill had force enough to occafioja both the
diurnal revolution of the Earth, and the month-
ly motion of the Moon, For 4 fmall circular

fiream

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. in

Ilream may ea&ly be conceived as flowing round
the body of the Earth, at the fame time that
It 18 carried along by that great ocean of ether
which is continually revolving round the Sun;
in the fame manner> as in a great whirlpool of
water. One may often fee fcveral fmall whirls
pools, which revolve round . centers of their
own, and at the lame time are carried round
the center of the great one. Such was the
caufe of the original formation and confcquent
motions of the Planetary Syftem^ When a folid
body is turned round its center, tbofe parts of
it, which are nearcft, and thofe which are re^^
moteft from the center, complete their revo*
lutions in one and the fame time. But it is
otherwifc with the revolutions of a fluid: the
parts of it which are neareft the center complete
their revolutions in a ihorter time, than thofe
which arc remoter. The Planets, therefore, all
floating in that immenfe tide of ether which is
continually fetting in from weft to eaft round
the body of the Sun, complete their revolu^
tions in a longer or a (horter time, according;
to their nearnefs or diftance from him. There
was, however, according to Des Cartes, no very
exz& proportion obferved betwixt the times of
their revolutions and th^ir diftances from the
center. For that nice analogy, . which Kepler
had difcovered betwixt them, having not yet
been difcovered by the obfervations of Caflini/
^as, as I before took notice, .catirely difregard-.>
ed by Des Cartes. According to him, too, their

I z orbits

1 1 s HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

orbits miglit not be perfedly circular, but b^
longer the one way than the other, and tlius
approach to an Ellipfe. Nor yet was it nccef- |
fary to fuppofe, that they defcribed this figure
with geometrical accuracy, or even that thejr
defcribed always precifely the fame figure. It
rarely happens, that nature can be mathemati--
cally exa£l with regard to the figure of the ol>*
je£is fhe produces, upon account of the infi-
nite combinations of impulfes, which muft con-
fpire to the produdion of each of hct effe£ls.
No two Planets, no two animals of the fam^
kind, have ezaAIy the fame figure, nor is that
of any one of them perfefily regular. It wa^ *
in vain, therefore, that afttonomers laboured
to find that perfed conftancy and r^Iarity in
the motions of the heavenly bodies, which is
to be found in no other parts of nature. Thefe
motions, like all others, muft either languifh
or be accelerated, according as the caufe which
produces them, the revolution of tht vortex of
the Sun, either languifhes, or is accelerated;
and there are innumerable events which may
occafion either the one or the othei' of thofe
changes.

It was thus, that Des Cartes endeavoured to
render familiar to the imagination, the greatefl
difficulty in the Copeiliican fyftem, the rapid
motion of the enormous bodies of the Planets.
When the fancy had thus been taught to con-
ceive them as floating in an immenfe ocean of

ether.

HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY. iij

ether^ it was quite agreeable to its ufual habits
to conceive, that they ftiould follow the ftream
of this oc^an, how rapid foever. This was an
order of fucceffion to which it had been long
accuftomed, and with which it was, therefore^
-quite familiar. This account too, of the ma*
dons of the Heavens^, was conneded with a
vaft, an immenfe fyflem, which joined together
a greater number of the moft difcordant phsci^
nojoiena of' najure^ thaii h^4 h^eji united by
any other hypothecs; ^ fyft^m \ix which th^
principles of connexion, though perhaps equal-
ly imaginary^ werp, however, more diftinfl apd
determinate, than any that had beei) known
before; and which ^ttemptpd to trace to th^
imagination^ not paly the ord^r of fucceflion by
whieh the heavenly bodies were moved, but
that by which they, ^d 9lmp(l: aU other natu-
ral obje^s, had originally beep produced*— ?
The Cartefiaa nhilofophy begins pow to bp ^-
moft univerfally rejeded, lyhile th^ Copernican
fyftem continues to be univerfally received.
Yet, it is not eafy tq imagine, ho\y rnucl^ prp-
bability and coherence t|iis admired fyftem was
long fuppofed to derive froqf^ that exploded hy-
pothefis. Till Pes Cartes had publiihed hi$
principles, the disjointed and incoherent fyfiem
of Tycho Brahe, though it was (rmbrace4 Jiear-
tily and completely by fiparce ^ny body, was
yet conftantly talked of by all the learned, as,
in point of probability, upon a level with that
of Copernicus. They took notice, indeed, of

its

iiA HISTORY OF ASTRONOKT.

its iafcriority with regard to coherence and con^
ne£lion, exprefiing hopes, however, that theic
ddfcAs might be remedied by fome future ixn-, '
pA>vements. But when the world beheld that
complete, and almoft perfeft coherence, which
the philofophy of Des Canes beftowed upon
the fyftem of Copernicus, the imaginations of
mankind could no longer refufe themfelves tlie
pleafure of going along wiih ft) harmonious an
account of things. The fyft^m of Tycho Brahe
was every day lefs and Icls talked of, till at laft
it was forgotten altogether

The fyftem of Pes Cartes, however, though
it conne6led together the real motions of th^
heavenly bodies According to the fyftem of Co-
pernici|s» more happily than had been done
before, did fo only when they were confidered
in the grofs; but did not apply to them, when
they were regarded in the detail. Des Cartes,
as was fatd before j had never himfelf obferved
the Heavens with any particular application.
Though he was not ignorant,* therefore, of any
of *^ the obfervations wb^ch had been made be-
fore his time,' he feems to have paid them no
great degree of attention ; which, probably, pro-
ceeded from his own inexperience in the (ludy
of Aftronoroy, So far, therefore, from accpm-
mddating his fyftem to all the minute Irregula-
rities, which Kepler had afcertained in the
movements of the Planets; or from fiiewing,
particularly, how thefe irregulaxitiesj and no

^ *** ' other.

HISTORY OF AStRONdMT. 115

other, fliould arife from % he contented him-

felf ^th obfcrving, that perfedl uniformity could

not be e^pe&ed in their motion, from the na«

ture of the caufes which produced them ; that

certain irregularities might take place in them,

for a greater number of fucceffive revolutions,

and afterwards give way to others of a different

kind: a remark which, happily, relieved him

from the neceflity of applying his fyftem to the

obfervations of Kepler, and the other Aflrono-

rncrs^

But when the obfervations of Caffini had cf"
tablifhed the authority of thofe laws, which
Kepler had firft difcovered in the fyftem, the
philofophy of Des Cartes, which could afford
no reafon, why fuch particular laws fliould be
obferved, might continue to amufe the learned
in other fciences, but could no longer fatisfy
thofe that were Ikilled in Aftronomy* Sir Ifaac ^
Newton firft attempted to give a phylical ac«
count of the morions of the Planets, which '
ftiould accommodate itfelf to all the conftant
irregularities which aftronomers had ever ob«
ferved in their motions. The phyfical connec-
lion, by which Des Cartes had endeavoured to
bind together the movements of the Planets, '
was the laws bf impulfe $ of all the orders of
fucceffion, thofe which are moft familiar to the
imaginarion ; as they all flow from the inertnefs
of matter. After this quality, there is no other,
with which we' are fo well acquainted^ as that'

I Id; HISTORY or ASTRONOMY.

of gravity. We never aft upon matter, bit
we have occafion to obferve it* The fqperior
genius and fagacity of Sir Ifaac Newton, thcre-i,
fore, made the mofl l^appy, ?ad, w? may now:
fay, the greateft anc^ mod admirable iniprovc-
ment that was ever made in phiiofophy, whea
he difcovercd, that he could join together the
movements of the PU^ets by To familiar a prin-
ciple of connection, which completely remoye4
all the difficulties the imagination had hitherto
felt in attending to them. He demoiiftrateda^
that, if the Planet^ were fyppofed to gravitate
towards the Sun, ai^d to one another, and at
the fame tim^ to have had a projeding force
originally imprefled upon th^m, the primary
oaes mi^ht all defcribe ellipfi^s in one of the
foci of which tha^ great luminary was placed ^
and the fecpndary qnes oiight defcribe figures
of the fame kind, round their refpcAive prima**
ries, without b^ing d^ftijirbed by the continual
motion of the centers of their revolutions. That
if the force, which retained e^ch of them ift
their orbits, was li|ce that of gravity, and dir;
redled towards the Sun, they would, ej^ch of
them, defcribe equal ^reas in equal times^ That
if this attraflive power of the Sun, like all other
qualities j^hich are diffufed in rays frojoi ^
center, diminifhed in the fame proportion as
the fquares of the diftai^ces increafed, their
motions would b^ fwifteft when neareft the
Sun, and llowe(( when fartheft off from him,^
in the fame proportion in which, by obferva-

tion.

HISTORY Of ASTRONOMY. f }y

tioa> they are difcovered to be ; and that^ upoa
t^e fame fuppofitioq, of this gradual dinunutioct
of their refpeftive gravities^ their periodic tiine^
would bear the fame proportiou to their dif-
tances, which Kepler aad Cafiiui h^d eftabliih*
ed be^wisct them. H^viug thu^ ihowp, that
gravity might be the connei^iDg priuciple which
joiae4 tog;ether the movements of the Planet^,
he endeavoured next to prove that it really
Avas fo. Experience fhews us, what i^ the pow?
er of gravity near the furface of th? £arth;
That it i9 fuch as to make a body fall, in the
iiffl fecond of its defcent, through about fif-
teen Parifian feet. The Moon is about fixty
femidiameters of th$ Earth dift^nt from its fur-
face. If gravity, therefpre, was fuppofed to
dlminilh, as the fquares of the diftance incre^fe,
a body, at the Moon, would fall towards the
Earth in a minute; that, is, in fixty fecouds,
through the fame fpace, which it falls near its
furface in one fecond. But the arch which the
Moon d^fcrib^s ill a minut^, falls, by pbfervar
tioD, ^bout fifteen Parifian feet belqw the tan^
gent drawn at the beginning of it. So |ar,
therefore, the Moon may be conceived as coa^
(lantly falling towards the E^th«

The fyftem of Sir Ifaac Newton correfponded
to many other irregularities which Aftronomers
had obferved in the Heavehs. It affigned a reafon,
why the centers of the revolutions of the Planets
were not precifely in the center of the Sun^ but

iu

ji» HISTORY or ASTRONOMYi

in the common center of gravity of the Sun and
the Planets. From the mutual Ittraftion .of the
Planets, it gave a reafon for fome other irregula-
rities in their motions ; irregularities, which are
quite fenfible in thofe of Jupiter and Saturn, when
thofe Planets are nearly in conjnndlion with one
another. But of all the irregularities in the Hea*
vens, thofe of the Moon had hitherto given the
greateft perplexity to Aftronomers; and the fyf-
tero of Sir Ifaac Newton correfponded, if poflible,
yet more accurately with them than with any of
the other Planets. The Moon, when either in
conjundion, or in oppofition to the Sun, appears
furtheft from the Earth, and neareft to it when
in her quarters* According to the fyftem of that
philofopher, when (he is in conjunftion with the
Sun, fhe is nearer the Sun than the Earth is ;
.coiifequently, more attra£led to him, and, there-
fore, more feparated from the Earth."- On the
contrary, when in oppofition to thd Sun, fhe is
further from the Sun than the Earth, The Earth,
therefore, is more attraAed to the Sun; and,
confequently, in this cafe, too, further feparat-
ed from the Moon. But, on the other hand,
when the Moon is in her quarters, the Earth and
the Moon, being both at equal diftance from the
Sun, are equally attra£led to him. They would
not,, upon this account alone, therefore, be
brought nearer to one another. As it is not in
parallel lines, however, that they ■ are attrafted
towards- the Sun, but in lines which meet in his
center,- they are^ theteby, ftillftirther approach-
ed

HISTORy op, ASTRONQVT. 1 19

ed ^o one another. Sir Ifaac Newtqn computed
thp diffeTeijccs of the forces, with, which the.
Moon and the Earth otight« \n all tbpfe different,
fituations, according to his theory, to be impel*
led towards one another; and found, that the.
difierentdegreesofth^ir approaches, as^heyhad .
beei^ obferved by Aftronomers, correfponded ex^
a&ly to his compiitations. As the attra;&ion o£
the Sun, in the conjun^ons and lOppofitions^^
diminifhes the gravity of the Moon towards the .
Earth, and, confequemly» makes her nece<fari<«
ly extend her wbit, and, therefore, leqtdre >
louger periodici^l time to £niih it. But, whei4
the Moon and the Earth are in that part of the or-*
bit which is neareft the Sun, thi^ auraStion of the
Sun will be the greateft ; c^mfequently,. the gra«
vity of the Mopu towards th^ Earth, will there
be moft diminiihed ; her orbit be moft extended;
and her periodic time be, therefore, the longeft.
This is, aifo, agreeable to. experience, and in
the very fame proportion^ in which, by compu*
tation, from thefe principles, it joiight be ex<i
|>e£led«

The orbit of the Moon is nqt precifely in the ,
lame Plane with that of the Earth; but makes «
very fmall angle with it. The points of interfeo*
tiou of thefe two Planes, ar^ called, th^ Nodes
of the MoQu. Thefe Nodes of the Moon are ia
continual motion, and in eighteen or nineteen
years, revolve backwards, from eaft to weft,
i throng all the different points of the .Ecliptic

For

12C HTSTORT OF ASTRONOMY.

3For the Moon,, after having finifiied her periodi-
cal revolution, generally interfefts the orbit of the
Earth ibmewh/it behind the point where Ihe had
interiefted it before. But, though the motion of
the Nodes is thus generally retrograde, it is not
always fo, but is fometimes direA, and fpme-
times they appear even ftationary ; the Moon ge-
nerally interfeds the Plants of the Earth^s orbit,
behind the point where ihe had interfe&ed it in
her former revolution ; but fhe fometimes inter-
k&s it before that point, and fometimes in the
very fame point. It is the fituation of thofe Nodes
wluch determines the times of Eclipfes, and their
motions had, upon this account, at all times,
been particularly attended to by Aftronomers.
Nothing, however, had perplexed them more,
than to account for thefe fo inconfiftent motions,
and, at the fame time^ preferve their fo much
fought-for regularity in the revolutions of the
Moon. For they had no other means of conned-
ing the appeamnces' together, than by fuppofing
fhe motions which produced them, to be, in rea-
lity, perfeftly regular and equable. Thehiftoryof
Aftronopiy, therefore, gives an account of >
greater nuqaber of theories invented for connedl-
ing together the motions of the Moon, than for
conneding together thofe of all the other heavenly
bodies taken together. The theory of gravity,
conneded together, in the moft accurate manner,
by the diflFerent aftions of the Sun and the Eanh,
all thofe irregular motions ;• and it appears, by
calculation, that the time, the quantify, and the

duration

IflSTORY OF ASTRONOMY. lai

tluration of thofe direft and retrograde motions
of the Nodes, as well as of their ftationary ap-
pearances, might be expefled ^o be cxaftly fuch,
as the obfervations of Aftronomers have deter-
imiiied them.

The lame principle, the attra^ion of the Sun»
which thus accounts for the motions of the Nodes,
conneds, too, another very perplexing irregula-
rity in the appearances of the Moon ; the per^-
petual variation in the inclination of her orbit .ta
that of the Earth.

As the Moon revolves in an ellipfe, which has
xhc centre of the Earth in one of iu foci, the
longer axis of its orbit is called the Line of its
Apfides. This line is found, by obfervation,
hot to be always direAed towards the fame points
of the Firmament, but to revolve forwards, £tom
weft to eai^, fo as to pals through all the points
of the Ecliptic, and to complete its period in
about nine years; another irregularity, which
had very much perplexed Aftronomerd, but
which the theory of gravity fuflBcicntly account-
ed for.

The Earth had hitherto been regarded as per-
fc£Uy globular, probably for the fame reafon
which had made men imagine, that the orbits of
the Planets muft neceflarily be perfedly circular.
But Sir Ifaac Newton, from mechanical princi-
ples, concluded, that, as the parts of the Ea^rth

muft

\ii SISTokY dF ASfkONOiiY;

'muft'bfc more agitated by her diurnal revolution
at the Equator, than at the Poles, they muft ne-
ceflarily be fonicwhat elevated at the firft, and
flattened at the fecond. 'The bbfervations that
the ofcillations of pendulunis were flower at the
Equator than at the Poles, feeming to demon-^
•ftrate^ that gravity was ftronger at the Poles^ and
weaker at the Equator, proved^ he thought, that
"the Equator was further from the centre than the
Poles. All the mealhres, however, which had
iiitherto been made of the Earth, Teemed to fhow
the contrary, that it wai drawn out towards the
Poles, and flattened towards the Equator* New-^
ton, however, preferred his mechanical compu-
tations to the former meafures of Geographers
ftnd Aftronomers i and in this he was confirmed
by the obfervations of Aftronomers on the figure
6f Jupiter, whofe diameter at the Pole feems to
be to his diameter at the Equator, as twelve ii>
thirteen ; a much greater inequality than could
be fuppofed to take place betwixt the correfpon-
dent diameters of the Earth, but which was cx-
aftly proportioned to the fuperior bialk of Jupi-
ttr, and the fuperior i^apidity with which he per-
forms his diurnal revolutions* The obfervations
of Aftronomers at Lapland and Peru have fully
confirmed Sir Ifaac^s fyftem, and have not only
demonftrated, that the figure of the Earth is, in
general, fuch as he fuppofed it; but that the
proportion of its aitis to the diameter of its
Equator is almoft precifcly fuch as he had com-
puted it. And of air the prooft that Have ever

been

MlSTORt 01 ASTRONOilY. it^

been adduced of the diumal revolution of the
Earth, this perhaps is the moft folid and fatis-
failory.

Hipparchus, by compathig his own obfcrva-
tions i^ith thofe of fome former Aftronomers^
had found that the equinoxial points were not
always oppofite to the fame part of the Heavens,
but that they advanced gradually eaftward by fo
flow a motion, as to be fcarce fenfible ii one
hundred years, and whith would require thirty-^
fix thoufand to make a complete revolution of
the Equinoxes, and to carry them fucceffively
through all the different points of the Ecliptic.
More accurate obfervations difcovered that this
procefiion of the Equinoxes was not fo flow
as Hipparchus had imagined it, and that it re-
quired fomewhat lefs than twenty-fix thoufand
years to give them a complete revolution. While
the ancient fyilem of Aftronomy, which repre-
fented the Earth as the immoveable centre of the
uhiverfe, took place, this appearance was necef-
farily accounted for, by fuppofing that the Fir-
mament, befides its rapid diurnal revolution
round the poles of the Equator, had likewifc a
flow periodical one round thofe of the Ecliptic.
And when the fyftem of Hipparchus was by the
fchoolmen united with the folid Spheres of Arif-
totle, they placed a new chriftaline Sphere above
the Firmament, in order to join this motion to
the reft. In the Copernican fyftem, this appear-
ance had hitherto been conneded with the othei

parts

124 HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY;

parts of that hyppthefis, by fuppofing a fmalt
revolution in the Earth's afxis from eaft to weft-
Sir Ifaac Newtdn coiiiieded this motion by the
fame principle 6f gravity, by which he had united
all the others, and fhewed, how the elevation of
the parts of the Earth at the equator itiuft, by
the attradlion of the Siih^ produce tht famie re-
trograde motion of the Nodes of the Eclipuci
which it prodticed of the Nodes of the Moon;
He computed thequantity of motion which could
arife from this adion of the Sun, and his calcula-
tions here too entirely correfponded Ivith the ob-i
fervations of Aftronomers.

Comets had hitherto, of all the appearances
in the Heavens, been the leaft attended to by
Aftronomers. The rarity and mconfiancy of
their appearance, fecmed to feparate them en*
tirely frpm the conftant, regular, and uniform
objedls in the Heavens, and to miake them re-
femble more the inconftant, tranfitory, and ac-
cidental phaenomena of thpfe regions that are
in the neighbourhood of the Earth. Ariftotle,
Eudoxus, Hippatchus, Ptolemy, and Purbacb,
therefore, had all degraded them below the
Moon, tand ranked them among- the meteors
of the upper regions of the air. The obfer-
vations of Tycho Brahe demonftr^ted, that they
afcended into the cekftial regions, and were
often higher than Venus or the Sun. Des Car-
tes, at random, fuppofed them to be always
higher than even the orbit of Saturn ; and feems,

by

lUSCOKY OK ASXROSOBCTr tsap

bf^ tbe fuperior elevatioii he tlsos: beftowed upon
them, to have been willing to conipenf«tc.tl»t
unjuft degradation which they had fuffered for
fo many ages bitffort. T?he obfervations of fome
later Afti^onomeits didm«nftrat«d, that tfaey too
revolved abdtrt the Sbii^ and n^ht tbdrefore
be partd ct the Soiar flyftoD. Newton accords;
ingly applied hid laeabanicrt piinoxpkf ofgra^
vity tD espiaiA dxf modotm oS tbdfe bodis^
That they defot-ibcd cqul tireaei ki «qyU tasiea^
bad been difcorn^edtlby the oMbivations of fixme
later A&ronamex^i -dad Ijeittan> cn^ca^'oused
to fliow how ffom this pafinciiple,. aad xkak olv
ferratiom, the:nauire aod poikicai ol thebfe-
veral arbM might beia&evtanaedy ind i^iK^pe^
rbdic times daserianied. ^ His £>llower& hav^.
from hift principles^ Yemimed ersn to .pr«di&
the returns ofifeYcrall oS iksm, jiarticuhrly of
oae which is toe make its appearance! in 1758**
We muft wak: for. that tinrn brfoire we can de-
termine, whether his philofopliy correfponds
as happily to tins part <if thefyileat as to all
the cfthers. In the niean. time^ however, th^
dudility of this: principle^ which applied itfelf
fo happily to thefe, the tnoil irregular of all the
celeftial appearances^ and whieh has introduce
ed fuch compkte coherence into the motion^
of all the Heavealy Bodies^ has ferved not a

K . little

* It mult l>e oUerred, that the whole of this Eflajr wat
written previous to the date here mentioned; and that the
leturn of the comet happened agreeabi/ to the pfcdidion*

(t6 HISTORY OF ASTRONOMY.

little to recommend it to the imaginations of
mankind.

But of all the attempts of the Newtonian
Philofophy, that which .would appear to be the
mod above the reach of human reafon and ex-
perience, is the attempt to compute the weights
and denfities of the Sun^ and of the feveral
Planets. Anattempt> however, which was in*
difpenfibly neceffary to complete the coherence
of the Newtonian fyftera. The power of attrac-
tion which, according to the theory of gravity,
each body poffefles, is in proportion to the
quantity of matter contained in that body. But
the periodic time in which one body, at a gi-
ven diftance, revolves round another that at-
trads it, is fhorter in proportion as this power
is greater, and confequently as the quantity of
matter in the attrading body. If the denfities
of Jupiter and Saturn were the fame with that
of the Earth, the periodic times of their feve-
ral Satellites would be fhorter than by obfervation
they are found to be. Becatife the quantity of
matter, and confequently the attradiog power
of each of them, would be as the cubes of their
diamctersi By comparing the bulks of thofe
Planets, and the periodic rimes of their Satel-
lites, it is found that, upon the hypothefis of
gravity, the denfity of Jupiter muft be greater
than that of Saturn, and the denfity of the
Earth greater than thtt of Jupiter. This feems
tb ellabliih it as a law in the fyfiem, that the

nearer

HIST(»IT OF A8TROMOMT, 127

♦

neuer the feveral Plaaets approach to the Sun,
the dcnfity of their matter is the greater : a
conilitutioQ of thiags which would feem to be
the luoft advantageous of any that could have
been eftafoUlfaed ; as water of the fame denfity
with that of our Earth, >K^ould freeze under the
Equator of Saturn, and boU under that of Mer*
cury.

Such is the fyftem of Sir Ifaac Newton, a fyf-
tern whofe parts are all more ftri^ly conneded
together, than thofe of any other philofophical
hypothefis. Allow his principle, the univer-
iality of gravity, and that it decreafes as the
fquares of the diftance increafe, and all the ap«
pearances, which he joins together by it, ne-
ceflarily follow. Neither is their conae£Hon
merely a general and Ipofe connexion, as that
of moft other fyftems, in which either thefe
appearances, or fome fuch like appearances,
might indifferently have been expe^ed. It is
cY^ry where the moft precire and particular that
can be ioiagined, and afcertains the time, the
place, the quantity, the duration of each indi-
vidual pfasenomenon, to be exaAly fuch as, by
obfexvation, they have been determined to be.
Neither ai^ the principles of union, which it
employs, fuch as the imagination can find any
difficulty in going along with. The gravity o£
matter is, of all its^qualities, after its inertnefs,
that which is moft familiar to us. We never
tSt upcm it without having occafioa to obferve
K z this

thU prt^eky. Tt« l*v»r too, hj^ ^feich- k i* ft^*
5pofed to dimimffi- as k ikctA^i lft)rtf kd dentre,
?8 the feihc whkrh takes pfac« lA ill oHli^i' qtiflfc-
fhtes whtefc Mie ptopagatdd! m Tiy^ ftom a- cen-
tre, in Kgirt, «nd ill dvcry tMng elfe of tfe^ fame
Imd It k fuefa, that we not only find that
it does take place iii^ dt feck ijtfaflki^, but we
are neceffarily determined to conceive that, -from
the nature of the thing, k muft take place. The
bppoiition wbieh was mdde in ttaticej Ati4 in
fome other foreign nations, to the pret^aTenctf of
this fyftem, did ^ot arife fiom any diflSetilty
which ttiankind naturally felt in: conce^Tteg gra-
-f^ity as an original and primary mover in the
Cttflfflmtion of the tfniverfe. The Gartifiatt fyf-
fcm, which had prtvailed (o getoeralfy before tty
had accuffomed nftrnkind to cohteiw motioir
as never beginning^, but irt eoirfequencie of im--
Julfe, and had conneAed' the ^ftent of heavy
bodies, neai^ the furface of the Earth, and the
other Pfenets, by this more genetal bond of
titiiou; and it Was^ the attachment the world
had conceived for this account of things, whicflr
itodifpofcd them to that of SJr Ifaac Ne\vton*
HSs fjrffei^, Howcfvir, rfow- prevail ovet all op-
poiitrorr, and ha^ advanced to the acqnifitkm
df the moft uiiivferfal empire that Wa^ ever efta--
BKfhed in f^hilofophy. Hi^ priiicipfes, k mtiff
Bel acknotvledged, havb a degree of firmnefs^
and fblkfity thit we ftionld in vaiti l6ok for in
any other fyftcmf.' The moft fce^tical cannot
ivoid' fcrfing-thii. They not only conneft to-
gether

gether moft perfcdly all the phsenomena of the

Heavens, which had been obferved before his

time, but tbcfe 4f0 vfhkh the perfevAing induf-

try and more perfed inftruments of later Aftrono-

mer^ havejpHide kao-wa to w ; Jiaye be€a either

eaCly ancj i|jiH>ediatielj^ e;5plained by t4je applicaH;

X)n of his prineiple^ or Jbaye hcpn explained in

confequence of xnorf laborious ^ad .accurate . cal^

culations froiR^ th.efe principles, thaii had been in^

ftituted bcfo^re^ And ievea we, while we hav^

been eade^voiiriQjg to reprefent ,all phitolophicaj

fyftcm^ as jncre inventions of tlje imagination, tp

wnoefi together the othea: wife disjointed ,and diC-

cord^nt pbaenomena pf iiatnre;, iave infenfibljr

been drawn in, -tp malae nfe of langtwgc cxpre£r

fing the conneding principles of this one, as if

they were the real chains which Nature makes ufe

of to bind together her feveral operations. Can

we wonder then, that it flbould h^ve gained the

general and complete approbation of mankind,

and that it ihould now be confidered, not as an

attempt to conned in the imagination the phaenor*

mena of the Heavens, but 4s the greateft difco-

very that ever was made by man, the difcove-

ry of an immenfe chain of the moft important and

fublime truths, all clofely connefted together, by

one capital fad, of the reality of which we have

daily experiencet ***♦*»***

KOTE

tS6 HISTQRT OF ASTRONOMT.

NOTE by tbc EDITORSi

The Author, atthecndofthisEflky, leftfome
Notes and Memorandums, from which it appears,
that he confidered this part of his Hiftory of
Aftronomy as imperfcA, and needing feveral ad-
ditions. The Editors, however, chofe rather to
publiih than to fupprefs it. It muft be viewed,
not as a Hiflory or Account of Sir Ifaac Newton's
Aftronomy, but chiefly as an additional iltuftra-
tion of thofe Principles in the Human Mind which
Mr. Smith has pointed out to be the univerfa)
motives of Philofophical Refearcheai

HISTORY

PRINCIPLES

WHIpH L^AD AND DI&BCT

PHILOSOPHICAL ENQUIRIES;

ILLUSTJIATBD BY THB

HISTORY of thcANCipNT PHYSICS,

HISTORY

OF THE

ANCIENT PHYSICS,

\0 ' J ill .

J* KOM arranging and methodizing the Syftem
of the Heavens, Philofophy defcended to the
confideration of the inferior parts of Natyre, of
the Earth, and of the bodies which immediately
furround it. If the obje£l5, which were here pre-
fented to its view, were inferior in greatnefs or
beauty, and therefor^ lefs apt to attraA the atten-
tion of the mind, they were more apt, when they
came to be attended to, to eoibarrafs and perplex
it, ty the variety of their fpecies, and by the
intricacy and feeming irregularity of the laws or
orders of their fucceffion, The fpecies of objeds
in the Heavens are few in number j the Sun, the
Moon, the Planets, and the Fixed Stars, are all
which thofe Philofophers could diftinguilh. All
the changes too, which are ever obferved in
thefe bodies, evidently arife from fome difference
in the velocity and diredioii pf their feveral mo-
tions; but the variety of meteors in the air, of

cloudS;,

IJ4 HISTORY or ANCIENT PHYSICS.

clouds, rainbows, thunder, ligbtning, vinds^
rain, hail, fnow, is vaftly greater; wd the order
of their fucceflion feems to be ftill more irregular
and unconftant. The fpeciesoffoffils, minerals^
plants, animals, ivhich are found in the Waters,
and near the furface of the Earthy are ftill more
intricately diverfified ; and if we regard the dif-
ferent manners of their produdion» their mutual
influence in altering, deftroying, fupporting one
another, the orders of their fucceflion feem to ad*
mit of an almoft infinite variety. If the imagi*
nation, therefore, when it confidered the appear-
ances in the Heavens, was often perplexed, and
driven out of its natural career, it would be much
more expofed to the fame embarraflTment, when
it direAed its attention to the pbjeds which the
£arth prefented to it, and when it endeavoured to
trace their progress ^nd fucceflive revolutions*

Tq introduce order and coherence into the
mind's conception of this feeming chaos of diffi-
milar and disjointed appearances, it was ncccfia-
ry to deduce all their qualities, operations, and
laws of fucceflion^ from thofe of fome particular
things, with which it was perfeAly acquainted
and familiar, and along with its imagination
could glide fmoothly and eafily, and without in-
terruption. But as we would in vain attempt to
deduce the heat of a ftove from that of an open
chimney, unlefs we could ihow that the fame fire
which was expofed in the one, lay concealed in
the other i fo it was impofiible to deduce the qua-
lities

HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS. 135

litiee and laws of fuccefiion, obferved in the more
uncommon appearances of INature, from thofe
of fnch as were more familiar^ if thofe cuftoma-
ry objeds were not fuppofed, however difguifed
in their appearance, to enter into the compofi-
tion of thofe rarer and more lingular phseuome-
na. To render, therefore, this lower part of
the great theatre of nature a coherent fpe£tacle to
the imagination, it became neceflary to fuppofe,
firft. That all the ftrange obje&s of which it
confifted were made up out of a few, with which
the miud was extremely familiar : . and fecondly.
That all their qualities, operations, and rules of
fuccei&on, were no more than different diverfi-
fications of thofe to which it had long been ac*
cuflomed, in thefe primary and elementary ob-
jeas.

Of all the bodies of which thefe inferior parts
of the univerfe feem to be compofed, thofe with
which itre are moft familiar, are the Earth, which
we tread upon; the Water, which we every day
ufe ; the Air, which we conftantly breath ; and
the Fire, whofe benign influence is not only re*
qtured for preparing the common necefiaries of
life, but for the * continual fuppprt of that vital
principle which aduates both plants and animals.
Thefe, therefore, were by Empedocles, and the
other philofophers of the Italian fchool, fuppof-
ed to be the elements, out of which, at lead, all
the inferior parts of nature were compofed. The
familiarity ^ thofe bodies to the mind> naturally

difpofed

^ifpofed it ito look fpr.jGomc refcwblsmce to tbensi
in whatever elfe ws prefentcd to us cpoiidera*
tioa- The difcovexy of (om^ inch rcfrrohlancc
united the new objeiSl to an afibrtaient of tfaiagSt
with which the iougiqation was pcr&aiy :ac-r
guainted. And if any analogy cowld be obferv*
cd betwixt the operations ant| laws of fucceffipa
pf the compound, and thofe of tiie finipleobje^^y
the movement of the fancy^ in tracing their pro.
grefs, became quite Imootii, and ^latural, «ad
pafy. This natural anticipatioA> toO| w;is iliU
more confirmed by fuch.a flight ^nd inaccurate
unalyfis of things, as could be expeGtcd in this
infancy of fcieucet when the curipfity q£ man*
kind, grafping at an account of all things be*
fore it had gpt full fatisfa&ion with r^ard to ftojr
one, hurried on to build, in imagination, theifO^
menfe fabric of the univerfe. The heat, ob-
ferved in both plants and imimalSf feemed tp de<-
fnonftrate, that Fire made a pajrt of their cprnpa^
^tion, Air was not lefe nec^f&ry for tljf fi^bfift--
9nce pf .both* and feemed, too^ to center into th^
fabric of animals by refpiratjon^ and into that of
plants by fome other means* The j^lices vhach
^circulat^d thxpugh them ihowed how m^ck of
their tejcture w#s owing to Water. Aud their
refolutiom into Earth by putrefeiUon, .difcovered
that this element had not been left out in their
original fornsation. A fimilar aufilyfis feemed to
Aiew the fame principles in^noft other <;ompojand
bodies^

'the

^StOAV Cft ANClEfrtf PHtSICSL i^f

•file vaft extent of thoft bodies feeme J to ren-
der them, trpoli another account, proper to he
the great ftofes: out of which nature compound-
ed all the other fpeefesr of things. Earth and
Water dividd almoft the whole of the terreftrial
globe between them, ^he thin tfanfparent co-
vering of the Ait fiirrounds h to an immenfe
height updn all fides. Fire, with m attendant,
light; feems 16 defcend from the celeftial re-
gions, and might, therefore, either be fuppofed
to be diffufed through the whole of thofe icthe-
riat fp^eei, as well ad to be condenfed and con-
globated in: thole luminous t)odies, which fparkfe
act ofs^ them, as by the Stoics j or, to be placed
immediately ufider the fphere of the Moon, in
the region next below them, as by the Peripa-
fettcfi, who could not reconcile the devouriii^
nature of Fire with the fuppofed unchangeable
cffence of their folid and cryftalline fpheresw

The qualities, tdo, by which we are chiefiy
acctlffomed to chata£terize and diftinguifh natu-
ral bodies, are afl of them found, in the higheft
degt-ee in thofe Four Elements. The great di-
vifions of the objeSd, neatr the fui^face of the
£artb, ^re thofe into hot and cold, moifl and
dry, Ught and heavy. Thefe are the moft re-
markable' properties of bodies ; and it is vipcm
them that many of their other moft fenfible qua-
lities and powers feem to depend. Of rhefe,
heat and cold were naturally enough regarded by
thofe firfi eo^irers imo nature, as ti^e a£iive,

moifture

isi aiSTORY OF ANCIEirr PHYSIC*.

moifture and dryers, as the paffive qualities of
matter. It was the temperature of heat and cold
which feemed tooccafion the growth and diffolu-
tion of plants and animals ; as appeared evident
from the cSc&s of the change of the feafons up-
on both* A proper degree of moifture and dry-
nefs was not lefs necelTaiy for thefe purpofcs ; as
was evident from the different effeds and pro-
dudlions of wet and. dry feafons and foils. It
was the heat and cold> however^ which aduated
and determined thofe two otherwife inert quali-
ties of things, to a (late either of reft or motion.
Gravity and levity were regarded as the two
principles of motion^ which direded all fublu*
nary things to their proper place : and all thofe
fix qualities, taken together, were, upon fuch
an inattentive view of of nature, as muft be ex-
pelled in the beginnings of philofophy, readily
eaoujgh apprehended to be capable of conne&ing
together the moft remarkable revolutions, which
•Qcur in thefe inferior parts of the univerfe.
Heat and drynefs were the qualities which cha-
nAerized the element of Fire ; heat and moif-
tore that of Air ; moifture and cold that of Wa-
tet^ cold and drynefs that of Earth. The natu-
ral motion of two of thefe elements. Earth and
Water, was downwards, upon account of their
gravity. This tendency, however, was ftrongcr
in Ac one than in the other, upon account of
the Ibpcrior gravity of Earth. The natural mo-
tioo of thf. twg other elements. Fire and Air,
yi^ upwwdsj upon account of their levity ; and

this

fflSTORY OF ANCIEWr PHYSICS. 139

this tendency, tooy was ftronger in the one than
in the other, upon account of the fuperior levity
of Fire. Let us not defpife thofe ancient philo-
fophers, for thus fuppoling, that thefe two ele-
ments had a pofitive levity, or a real tendency
upwards. Let us remember, that this notion has
an appearance of being confirmed by the taott
obvious obfervations ; that thofe fa£ts and expe-
riments, which demonftrate the weight of the
Air^ and which no fuperior fagacity, but chance
alone, prefented to the moderns, were- altogether
unknown to them; and that, whfit might, in fomc
meafure have fupplied the place of thofe experi-
ments, the reafonings concerning the caufes oS
the afcent of bodies, in fluids fpecifically heavier,
than themfelve$, ieem to have been unknown ia
the ancient world, till Archimedes difcovered
them, long after their fyftem of phyfics was com*^
pleted, and had acquired an eftablifhed reputa«
tion : that thofe reafonings are far from being ol>
vious, and that by their inventor, they feem to
hare been thought applicable only to the afcent
of Solids in Water, and not even to that of So-
lids in air, much lefs to that of one fluid in
another. But it is this laft only which could ex-
plain the afcent of flame, vapours, and fiery ex*
halations, without the fuppofltign of a fpecific
levity*

Thus, each of thofe Four Elements had, in
the fyflem of the univerfe, a place which was
peculiarly allotted to it, and to which it natu-
rally

Mtf tended. t«tb atKl Water foJhrf down tor
tl^ eentt^ 5 the A\t ^€»mI itf4df abwrie tbcim ;
whJte the Fire foared dlcrff, either ta* thcrcdeP
tial regrbiij w iksit whicll t)i^6 immediatdy be*
IbXfhi When eatch df tboftf firitj^ebodies had
tinss obtained ii^ f$rdf»^ ^tere^ there wji» iia<'
tllifig id the DfatDfte of au}^ <me of them to inake
it paft ibic^-thfe' place <tf tJk?C)th€f ^ ta make tbe^Rre
«lefceiid ittkiKthe Air, the Ah hMo the WaWr^ of
tJie Watdfi ato the Earth jdr, oii thff oOiurar}?^.
t^brifig ii|>th«- Eai^^h ie» t^p]siCt0{ the.Wak
i»ty the* W$itef into that ^ the Ak; cnr tfan Air
hifd that df the Fwe* AllfuWimwy thingis,. there*
fore$ if lef^ to tbei»f(gtve8, would have temnn*
dd ill an et^rntfl tepofe^ Tbe rer^lnddn o£ the
iM^ifetf^y thof£i df the Sun, Mooo, anocd Five Fh-
A6tt^ bj prodaci.iD>g the victfiitnde^ aC Day -and
Mighty a^d of tbe Seafood, pmrentdd tfaio. torpor
and iiia&ivity fi^om reigning thronigb the iofe-
nof parts! of matote;. iaflamed by tbci rafildicy of
tbeir circuidvaliuioosy the elei^emt of Fire, and
fbrced it Tide&tly downwairds into* tbe Air, kto:
the Water,^ add uobto the Earthy atid tbereby pro^
duced thofe mixtores of thei di&cent demeots'
which kept up' tlie motion and circolcttion of the
loiveT parts of nature; occafkmed, fomestiinesy
tiie entire traufmmation of one dement into ano-
ther, and fometimes the production of forms
and fpecies different from them all, and in which,
though tbe. qualities of them ail B»igbt be fotiod,
they were fo altered and attempered by the tnix-
txrre, aa^icArcd to-be diftioguiiliaft>ie.

Thu«,

toitORT Oi* ANCIENT Pff^glCSS* 141 -

Thus, if a f»all quajitity of Fire was mixed '
U'ith a great quantity of Air, the moifture and
moderate warrath jof iht one entirely furmount- •
cd and changed imo their own effence the in-
tenfe heat and drynefs of the other ; and the '
Ivbole aggregate became Air. The' contrary of*
which hapjpenedi if a fmall quantity of Air \Va3 -'
mijced with a great quantity of Fire: the whole,
in this cafe, became Fire- In the fame ttiannet,
if a fmall quantity of Fire was mixed with a
great quantity of Water, then^ either the moif-
ture and cold of the Water might furmaunt '
the heat and drynefs of the Fire, fo as that the
whole ftiould become Water; or, the moifture-
of the Water might furmount the drynefs of the
Fire, while, in its turn, the heat of the Fire fur-
mounted the coldnefs of the Water, fo - as that
the whole aggregate^ its qualities being heat and
moifture, flxould become Air, which was regard-
ed as the more natural and eafy mctamorphofis of
the two. In the fame manner they explained
how like changes wiere produced by the differenfc
mixtures of Fire and Earth, Earth and Water;
Water and Air, Aii: and Earth; and thus they'
conncfted together, the. fucceflive tranfmutations'
of the elements into one another*

i

Every mixture of thei Elements, however, did
not produce an entire tranfmutation. They were
fometimes fo blended together, that the qualities
of the one, not being able to deftroy, ferved
only to attemper thofe of the other. ^ Thus, Fire, '

L when

14^ HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS.

when mixed with water, produced foinetimes d
watery vapour, whofe qualities were heat and.
moifture ; which partook at once of the levity o£
the Fire, and of the gravity of the Water, and
which was eievated by the firft into the Air, but
retained by the laft frbm afcending into the re-
gion of Fire. The relative cold, which they
fuppofed prevailed in the middle region of the
Air, upon account of its equal diftance, both
from the region of Fire, and from the rays that
are refle£led by the furface of the Earth, con-
denfed this vapour into Water; the Fire efcapod
it» and flew upwards, and the Water fell down ia
rain, or, according to the different degrees of cold
that prevailed in the different feafons, was fome-
times congealed into fnow, and fometimes into
haih In the fame manneri Fire, when mixed
with Earth,, produced fometimes a fiery exhala-
tion, whofe qualities were heat and drynefs>
which being elevated by the levity of the firft
into the Air condenfed by the cold, fo as to take
fire, and being at the fame time furrounded by
watery vapours, burft forth into thunder and
lightning, and other fiery meteors. Thus thej
conneded together the different appearances in
the Air, by the qualities of their Four Elements }
and from them, too, in the fame manner, they
endeavoured to deduce all the other qualities in
the other homogeneous bodies, that are near the
furface of the Earths Thus^ to give an exam-
pie/ with regard to the hardnefs and foftnefs (^
bodies 3 heat and moiflure, they obferved^ were

the

HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS, 143

the great foftners of matter. Whatever was
hard, therefore^ owed that quality either to the
abfenoe of heat, or to the abfence of moifture.
Ice, cryftal, lead, gold, and almoft all metals,
owed their hardnefs to the abfence of heat, and
were, therefore, diffolveable by Fire. Rock-
faiti, ni^tre, alum, and hard clay, owed that qua*
lity to the abfence of moifture, and were, there-
fore, diflblveable in water. And, in the fame
manner, they endeavoured to conneft toge-
ther moft of the other ungible qualities of mat-
ter. Their principles of union, indeed, were
Dften fuch as • had no real exiflence, and were
always vagne . and undetermined in the higheft
degree ; they were fuch, however, as might be
ezpeded in the beginnings of fcience, and' fuch
as, with all. their imperfeAions, could enable-
mankind both to think and to talk, with more
coherence, concerning tfaofe general fubjedis,
than without them they would have been capa-
ble of doing. Neither was their fyftem entirely
devoid either of beauty or magnificence. Each
of the Four Elements having^ a particular region
allotted to it, had a place of reiV, to which it
naturally tended, by its motion, either up or
down, in a flraigbt line, and where, wl^en it
had arrived, it naturally ceafed to move. Earth
defcended, till it arrived at the place of Earth ;
Water, till it arrived at that of Water; aijd Air,
till ir arrived at that of Air; and there each of
them tended to a ftate of eternal repofe and in-
a^ion. The Spheres confifted of a Fifth Ele-
L z ment»

144 HISTORY OF AKCIENir PHlfSICS.

meat, which was neither light aor heavyi and
whofe natural motion made it tend, . neither to the
' center, nor from the center,, but yevolvc round,
it in a circle-As, by this motion, they could
never change their fituation with regard to the
center, they had no place of; repofc, no place
to which tbey naturally tended more than to
any other, but revolved round and rotind for
ever. This Fifth Element was fubje^l neither
to generation nor corruption, nor alteration
of any kind; for whatever ' changes may hap-
pen in the Heavens, the fenfes can fcarce per-
ceive them, and their appearance is the fame
in one age as in another. The beauty, too, of
their fuppofcd cryftalline fpheres fecmed ftill
more to entitle them to this diiVindion of un*
changeable immortality. It was the motion of
thofe Spheres, which occafiohed the mixtures of
the Elements, and from thence, the produflion
of all the forms and fpecies, that diverfify the
world. It was the approach of the Sun and of
the other Planets,^ to the difierent parts- of the
Earth, which, by forcing down the element of
Fire, .'occafioned the generation of thofe forms.
It was the recefs of thofe bodies, which, by al-
lowing each Element to efcape to its proper
fphere, brought about, in an equal time, their
corruption. It was the periods df thofe great
lights of Heaven, which meafisred'out to aHfub-
lunajyr things,' the term of their duratioUy of
their growth, and of their decay, either in one,
or in i. number of feafons, according ai the H^
, . : ments

HKToAy or ANCIEI*¥ PftYSICS. 145

mients of wTiicH they were tompofed, were d-
tirer imperfcAly or accuAteljr bfended' and mi:x-
ed with one another. Immottality, they coirid
Wftow tipon no individual form,' bfrcaufe thS
principlfes out of which it was formed, all tena^
ing to difengage thetafelves, kud to return to
their proper fpheres, necfeflkrily, at laft, brought
^b^ut its diflblutibn. But, though all individu-
al^ were thus periftiable, and conftantly'*'d^Cay- -
ing, every fpeicies was immohal, becaufe the
fubje£l matter out of which they were m'ade, and
the revolution of the Heavens, the caufe of theft
fucceflive generations, Were alwayi the fame.

In the firft ages of the world, the" feeniirig iht
coherence of the appearances of nature, fo coii-
fbunded mankind, that they defpaifed of difcd^-
vering in her operations any * regular fyftenJ,
Their ignorancis,' arid cqnfufibn-t)f 'thbught, ne-
eidfarily gave birth to that pufillanimous fuperfff-
tion, which afcribes almoft every unexpelSi*J8l
event, to the arbitrary will of f6me defignin^,
though invifible beings, who prodiiced it Wt
fome private and particular purpofe. The idea
of an imiverfal mind, of a God of all, who orK
ginally formed the whole, and who governs thfe
whole by general laws, direfted tb the conferva-
tion and profperity of the whole, without regard
to that of any private individual, was a notion
to which they' were utterly ftrangers. Thefr
gods, though they Werfe apprehended to inter-
pofc, upon fome particular occiafions, were fo far

from

146 HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS.

from being regarded, as the creators of the
world, that their origin was apprehended to be
pofterior to that of the world. The Earth, ac-
cording to Heiiod^ was the firft prpduiftion of
the chaos. The Heavens arofe put of thp Earth,
and from both together, all the gods, who af-
terwards inhabited them. Nor was this notioa
confined to the vulgar, and to thofe po^ts who
feem to have recorded the vulgar thcplogy. Of
all the philofophers of the Ionian fchool, Anax-
agoras, it is well known, was the firfl who.fupr
pofed, that mind and underllanding were requi-
fite to. account for the firft origin of the world,
and who, therefore, compared whh the other
philofophers of his time, tialked, as Ariftotlc
obferves, like a fober man among drunkards;
but whofe opinion was, at that tinie> fo remark-
able, that he fecms to have got a firname from
it. The fame.nottion, of tj^e fpontaneous origin
of the world, was embraced, too, as th^ lame
aythor tells us, by the early Pythagoreans, a
fed, which, in the antient world, was never re-
garded as irreligious. Mind, and underftand-
ing, confequeqtly Deity, being the moft per-
feft, were neceffarily, according to them, the
laft produftiofts of Nature. For in all other
things, what was moft pcrfcft^ they obferved,
always came laft. As in plants and animals,
it is not the feed that is moft p^rfefl, but the
complete animal, with its members, in the one;
and the complete plant, with all its branches,
leaves, flowers, and fruits, 'in the other. This

notion,

HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS. w

lUitioo, which could take place only while Nan
iure was dill coofidered ^s, in fom^ ipeafprej
diforderly and iuconftaat in her operations, was
necefiarily renounced by thofe philofophers,
when, upon a more atteqtive furvey, they dif-
covered, or imagined they had difcovered, more
diftinAly, the chain which bouad all h^r difie-
rent part^ to one another. A9 foon a$ the Vnu
verfe was regarded as a complete machine,, as
a coherent fyfiem, governed by gepers^l laws,
and direded to general ends, viz. its own pre^
fervation and prqfperity, and that of all the
fpecies that are in it; the refemblance which it
evidently bore to thofe machines which are pro-
duced by human art, neceflarily imprefied thofe
fages with ^ belief, that in the original forma-
tion of the world there mpft have been em-
ployed an art refembliu}; the human art, but as
much fuperior to it, as the wpjld is fuperipr to
the machines which that art produces. The
unity of the /yftem!, which, according to thi^
ancient philofophy, is mpft perfei^, fuggefted
the idea of the unity, of th^t principle, hj
whofe art it was formed ; and thus, as ignorance
begot fuperflition, fcience gave birth tp the firil
theiffn that arofe among thofe nations, who were
not enlightened by divine Revelation. Accord-
ing to Timaeus, who was followed by Plato,
that intelligent £eing, who formed, the world,
endowed it with a principle of life and under-*
ftanding, which extends from its centre to its
remoteft circumference, which is confcious of

all

i4f filSTORY OF AlifaENT PHYSICS.

til itS' changes, and which governs and dired^
all its motions to the great end. of its formatioil.
This Soul of the World was itfelf a God, the
greateA of all the infe[rior, and created deities;
of an efledcc thaft was* iudiffoldbla, by any
power >but by that of him who 4»ade it, -and
which was united to the body, of the world,' fo
as to be infdparable by every force, but his who
joined them, from the exertion of which his
goodnefs fecured them* The beauty of the ce*.
leftial fpheres attraAing the admiration of-man-^
kind, the conftancy and regularity of their mo-^
tions feeming to manifeft peculiar wifdoni and
underftanding, they were each of them Sup*
pofed to be animated by an Intelligence. of a
nature that was, in the fame manneir, irdiffo^
luble and immortal, and iofeparably ^united to
that fphere which it inhabited. AIL the mortal
and changeable beings which people the futface
of the earth were formed by thofe inferior dei-
ties ; for the tevolutions of the heavenly bodies
feemed plainly to influence the generation ai}d
growth of both plants and animals, whofe frail
and fadi^ig forms bore the too evident marks of
the weaknefs of thofe inferior caufes, which
joined their different parts to one another. .-Ac-
cording to Plato and' Timceus, neither the Um-^
verfe, ^or even tbofe inferior deities^ who go-
vern' the Univcrfe, were eternal, but were form-
ed in time, by the great Author, of all things,
out of tiiat^ matter which had exifted from all
eternity* This at leaft their, words fecm to im*

port,

at^rofe* OF ANCiENt physics; {49

pan; and thu« they are tinderftood ):>y Cicero
and by all ike^ther Avmersof eafrlifef antiquity,'
though- fome of the hter ^Platonifts have inter-j
pretcd them diflferentlyV * -^-'^ ■ *

According t6 Ariftbtlc!, who' feefrf§ td hSV^
followed the d6aribe of t^ellus, the'wirrrd ^af
eterttal} the etferna^-eiFedi'-of an et^fiiaPc^fb?
HC'fofend'it'difficult/' it would feem, tocoifcfeiv^
what could hindSr^^thfe Fiirff C^i fV6m'^e!xert-
ing his* divine energy '{idik alt 'eternity/^ ^t
whatever time' he begah t6 es^rt it, he*muff
have been at rfeft during '^11' the infinite ages of
that eternity which had paffed before it; 'T^
what obftruaidn, from within, or from WitJiout"'
could thii be owing? or hoW' could this obstruc-
tion, if ever it had ftibfifted, have ever been
removed? His idea of the' nature and manner
of exift«nce of this Pif ft ■ Caufe, as it is ex-
preffed iri the laft* book of his t^hytics, and
the five laft chapters of' his Metaphyfic^, is
indeed obfcure and unintelligible in the higheft
degree, and has perplexed his commentatori
more than anyotherpatts of* his writings.. ^Thus
far, however, he feems to exprefs himfelf plainly
enough: that thie' Fi'rft Heavens, that of the
Fixed Stars, from which are derived the mo-
tions of all the reft, is revolved by an eternal,
immoveable, unchangeable,' unextended being,
whofe eflcnice confifts in intelligence, as that of
a b6dy' -confifts in folidity andextenfionj and
1 >whieh is therefore neceffarily and always intel-
ligent.

ija mSTORY OF ANCIEHT lfHYSK».

ligent, as a body is ];ieceirarily an4 ^(Iways cx«
tcoded: tbat this Being was the firft and fu-
preme p^ovcv of the UDiy4;rfe: that th^ inferior
Planetary, Spheres derived each of them its pe-
culiar revolution from an inferior being of the
fame kind; eterns^U immoveabl^:i unextended,
wd necefTi^rily i^telligent: that the fole ohjeSt
of the intellig^^ace of thof^ beings was their
9WQ effence, and the revolution of their own
jfpheres; all other inferior things being unwor-*
thy of their c^nfid^ra^ionj and that therefore
"whatever was beloyr the Moon was abandoned
by the gpds to the diredion of Nature, and
phance and Nieceflity. For ^hough thofe cc-
leftial b^ingai were, by the revolutions of their
feve^^l Spheres, the qrigin^il paufes of the ge-
neration and corruption of all fublunary forms,
they were cfiufes who neither knew npr intended
the eSc6ks which they produced. This renown-
ed philofopher feems^. in: his theological no-
lions> to have been dire^ed by prejudices
which, though extremely natural, are not very
philofophical, The revolutions of the Heavens,
by their grandeur ar^d cppftancy, excited his
admiration, and feemed^ upon that account, to
be effeds not unworthy a Divine Intelligeace.
Whereas the me^npefs of many things, the
diforder and confufioi^ of all things below, ex-
citing no fuch agreeable emotion, feemed to
have no marks of being diredled by that Su-
preme Underftanding. Yet, though this opi-
nion faps the foundations of human woriliips

and

HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS- 15^

and muft have the fame effe^$ upcm fqckty as
Atheifm itfelf, one rn^y cafily trace, iu the Me-r
taphyjics upon which it is grounded, the o^gia
of many of the notions, or rather of many of
the expreffions, in thie fchola^ic theology, to
which DO notion^ c^n be annexed

The StoicQ, the mod religious of all the an^
cient fe£ls of philofophers, feem in this, as ii^
moft other things, to have altered and refined
upon the doftrine of Plato. The order, har-
mony, and coherence which this philpfophy be«
ftowied upon the Univerfal Syf^em, ftruck thena
with awe an^ veneration. As, in the rude ages
of the world, whatever particular part of Na-
ture excited tl\c ?id miration of mankind, was
apprehended to be animated by fome particular
divinity J fo the whole o( Nature having, by
their reafonings, become equally the objefl of
admiration, was equally apprehended to be ani-
mated by a Univerfal Deityi to be itfelf a Di-
vinity, an Animal ; a term which to our cars
feems by no me^ns fynoninious with the fore-
going; whofe body was the folid and fenfible
parts of Nature, and whpfe foul was that aethe*
rial Fire, which penetrated and afluated the
^hole. For of all the four elements, out of
which all things were compofed. Fire or ^ther
feemed to be that which bore the greatefl re*
femblance to the Vital Principle which informs
both plants and animals, and therefore moft
likely to be the Vital Principle which animated

the

151 HISTORY OF ANCIIINT PHYSICJ,

the tfaiverfc. This infinite and unbounded
-S^ther,, Avhich extends itfelf from the centre be-
yond the reraoteft circumference of Nature, and
was endowed with the moft confummatc reafon
and intelligence, or rather was itfelf the very ef-
fence of reafon and intelligence, had originally
formed the world, and had comniunicated a por-
tion, or ray, of its own effence to whatever was
endowed with life and fenfation, which, upon
thediflblutionof thofc forms, either immediately
or Tome time after, was again abforbed into that
ocean of Deity from whence it had originally
been detached. In this fyftem the Sun, the Moon,
the Planets, and the Fixed Stars, were each of
them alfo inferior divinities, animated by a de-
tached portion of that act herial ettence which was
the foul of the wold. In the fyftem of Plato, the
Intelligence which animated the world was differ-
ent from that which originally formed it. Neither
were thefe which animated the celeftial fpheres,
por thofe which iriformed inferior terreftrial ani-
mals, regarded as portions o£ this plaffic foulof
the world. Upon\the (iiflblu'tion of animals,
therefore, their fouls were not abforbed iri (be foul
of the world, but had a fcparate and eternal exif-
tence, which gave birth to the notion of the tranf-
migraiion of fouls. Neither did it feehi unnatural,
that, as the fame mauer \yhich had compofeci one
animal body might be employed to compofe ano-
ther, that the fame intelligence w!hich had ani-
mated one fuch being ftiQuld again animate ano-
ther- '*But in the fyftem of the Stoics, the intelli-
gence

HISTORY OF ANCIENT PHYSICS. 153

gence which originally formed, and that which
animated the world, were one and the fame, all
inferior intelligences were detached portions of
the great one; and therefore, in a longer, or in a
fliorter time, were all of them, even the gods
themfelves, who animated the celeftial bodies,
to be at laft refolved into the infinite effcnce of
this almighty Jupiter, who, at a deftined period,
fliould, by an univerfal conflagration, wrap up all
things, in that setherial and fiery nature, out of
which they had originally been deduced, again
to bring forth a new Heaven and a new Earth,
new animals, new men, aew deities; all of which
would again, at a fated time, be fwallowcd up in
alike conflagration, again to be re-produced, and

again to be re-deftroyed, and fo on without end.

**************
**l^«**********

TttE

PRINCIPLES

WHICH LSAD AND DIRECT

PHILOSOPHICAL ENQUIRIES;

ILLUSTRATED BY THE HISTORY OF THE

ANCffiNT LOGICS and METAPHYSICS.

THE

History

O P T H E

ANCJENt LOGICS and METAPHYSICS.

IN evfe^y tVanfmiitation, either of one element
Into another, or of one compound body> either
into the elements o\it of which it was compofed,
or into another compound body, it feemed evi-
dent, that, both in the oldahd in the new fpecies,
there was fomething that was the fame, and fome-
thiog that was different. When Fire was chang-
ed into Air, or \Vater into Earth, the Stuff, or
SubjeSl-mat'ter of this Air and this Earth, was
evidently the fame with that of the former Fire
or Water; but the Nature or Species of thofe
new bodies was entirely different. . When, in the
fame manner, a number of frefh, green, and
odoriferous flowers were thrown togeiher in a
lieap; they, in a Ihort time, entirely changed
their nature, became putrid and loaihfome, and
diflblved into a confufed mafs of ordure, which
bore no refemblance, either in its fenfiblc quali*
ties or in its cffeds, to their former beautiful ap-
M pearance.

f 5« HISTORY OF ANCIENT LOGICS

pearance. But how different focver the fpecici
the fubje^^ matter oflbe flowers, and of the oi
dure, was, in this cafe too, evidently the fam<
In cveiy body, therefore, whether ^fimple o
mixed, there were evidently two principles, whol
combination conflituted the whole nature of tlu
particular body, 'the £rft was the Stuff, or Sub
jeft-matter, out. of which it was made; the fe
cbnd was the Species, the Specific Efieste, tb<
Effential; or^ as the fchoolmen have called it
the Subftantial Form of the Body. The firH
feemed to be the fame in all bodies, and to hav<
neither qualities nor powers of any kind, but tc
be altogether inert and imperceptible by any ol
the fenfes, till it was qualified and rendered fen-
fible by its union with fomc fpecies dr effential
form. All the qualities and powers of bodies
feemed to depend upon their fpecies or effential
forms. It was not the Stuff or matter of Rrc, ot
Air, or Earth, or Water, which enabled thofe
elements to produce their fevcral effcfls, but that
eilential form which was peculiar to each of them.
For it feemed evident, that Fire muft produce
the effeds of Fire^ by that which rendered it
Fire; Air, by that which rendered it Air; and
that in the fame manner all other fimple andmixt
bodies muft produce their feveral effefts, by that
which conftituted them fuch or fuch bodies ; that
is, by their fpecific Effence or effential fonns.
But it is from the effeds of bodies upon one ano-
ther, that all the changes and revolutions in the
material world arife. Since thefe, therefore, de-
pend

AND METAPHYSICS. ^59

pendupon the fpecific eflences of thofe bodies,
it muft be the bufinefs of philofophy, that fcience
which endeavours to conned together all the dif-
ferent changes that occur in the world, to deter>
n)ine wherein the fpecific Eifence of each obje&
confifts, ia order to forefee what changes or
revolutions may be expeded from it» But
the fpecific Eflence of each individnal obje£): '
is not that which is peculiar to it a^ an iiuii«-
vidual, but that which is common to it, widi
all other objedis of the fame kind. Thus the
fpecific Effence of the Water, which new fiands
before me, does not confifl: in its being heated by
the fire, or cooled by the Air, in fuch a particu*
lar degree ; in its being contained in a vefleL of
fuch "ai fomi, or of fuch dimenfions. Theie are
all accidental circumftances, which are altoge»>
tfaer extraneous to its general nature, and upoa
'which none of its effe£ls as Water depend* Phi*
lofophy, therefore, in coafidering the general
nature of Water, takes no notice of thofe particu«>
Urs which are peculiar to this Water, but con-
fines itfelf to thofe things w^ich ace common to *
all Water. If 4n the progrefs of its enquiries, it
ihould defcend to confider the nature of Water
that is modified by fuch particular accidents, it
ilill would not confine its confideration to thia
Water contained in this veflel, and thus heated
at this fire, but would extend its views to Water
in general contained in fuch kind of veiTels, and
heated to fuch a degree at fuch a fire. In'every
cafe, therefore, Species, or XJniverfals, and not
M z Individuals^

tfe inSTORT OF ANCIEMT LOGlCS

Individuals, are the (Ageds of Philofophy. Be^
caufe whatever effeAs are prodaced by individu^
als, whatevei" changes can flow from them, mu&
all proceed from fome univerfal nature that is con-
tained in them. As it was the bufinefs of Phyiics^
or Natural Phiiofophy, to determine wherein con*
Med the Nature and EiTence of every particular
Species of things, in order to conned together all
the different evente that occur in the material
world ; fo there were two Other fciences, which,
though they had originally arifen out of that fyf-
tem of Natural Philofophy I have juft been de-
fcribing, were, however, apprehended to go be-^
foreit> in the order in which the knowledge of
Nature ought to be communicated* The firft of
thefe, Metaphyfics, coniidered the general na^
ture of Uuiverials, and the different forts or fpe*
cies into which they might be divided. The f^
cond of thefe, L<^ics, was built upon this doc-
trine of Metaphyfics; and from the general na*
ture of Univerfals, and of the forts into which
they were divided^ endeavoured to afceruin the
general rules by which we might diftribute all par-
ticular objeds into general clafles, and determiDe
to what clafs each individual objed belonged; for
In this, they juftly enough apprehended, confifted
the whole art of philofophical reafoning. As the
firft of thdfe two fciences, Metaphyfics, is altoge-
ther fbbordinate tb the fecond. Logic, theyfeem,
before the time of Ariftotle, to have been regard-
ed as one, and to have made up between them
that ancient DialeAic of which we hear (omnch

and

AND METAPHTSIGS. lU

iflkd of which we undierftand fo little: nettheir
does this feparation fe^m to have been much atr
tended to, either by his own followers, th^ anci-
ent Peripatetics, or by any other of the old fcfts
of philofophers. The later fchpoln^en, indeed^
have diftioguifhed between Ontology s^idXiOgic ;
but their Ontology contains bu( a fmall part of
what is the fubjed of the metaphyfic^l bopks of
Ariftotle, the greater part of which, thedoAripes
of Univerfals, and every thing thfit is preparatov
ry to the arts of defining and dividing, has, iinc^
the days gf Porphvry, been inferted into th^if
Vo|ic,

According to Plato and Timseus, the princi-^

pies oQt of which the Deity formed the World,

and which were themfelves eternal, nirere three in

number. The Subjeft-matter of thwgs, the Spe^

cies or fpiccific EfTences of things, and w|iat waflf

made out of ^befe, the fenfible objef^s themfelves.

Thefe lai^ had nq proper or durable exiftence,

but were in perpetual flu? and fqcceffipn. For as

Heraclitus had (aid, that nq nnap ey<;r pafTed the

fame river twice) becaufe the water which he had

paifed 9ver once was gone before he could pafa

over it a fecpnd time ; fo, in the (an^e n^ai^ner,

no man ever faw, or heard, or touched the fanie

fenfible obje6^ twice. When I look s|t %h^ win*

dow, for example, the vifible fp(^ie3, which

ftrikes my eyes this moment, thoiugh refembling,

is different from that which ftruck my eyes the

immediately preceding moment. When I ring

the

Ui HISTaRT OI ANCIENT LOGICS

the bell, the found, or audible fpecics which I
hear this moment, though refembiing in the fame
manner, is different, however, from thjat which
I heard the moment before. When I lay my hand
on the table, the tangible fpecies which I feel this
moment, though refembling, in the fame man.
ner, is numerically different too from that which
I felt the moment before. Our fenfations, there-
fore, never properly exift or endure one nio
ment ; bur, in the very inflant of theiy genera-
tion, perifli and 'lire annihilated for ever* Nor
are the caufes of thofe fenfations more permanent,
No corporeal fubftance is ever exaftly the faroe»
cither in whole or in^any affignable part, duriog
two fucceffive moments, but by the perpetual ad-
dition of new parts, . as well as lofs of old ones,
is in continual flux and fuccefiion. Things of fa
fleeting a nature can never be the objefls of
fcience, or of any fteady or permanent judg-
ment. While we look at them, in order to
confider them, they are changed and. gone, and
annihilated for ever. The objeds of fcience,
and of all the fteady judgments of the under-
flanding, muft be permanent, unchangeable, al^
ways exiftent, and liable neither to generation
nor corruption, nor alteration of any kind. Such
are the fpecies or fpecific effences of things.
Man is perpetually changing every particle of his
body ; and every thought of his mind is in con-
tinual flux and fucceflion. But huoiauity, or hu-
man nature, is always exiftent, is always the
fame, is never geflerated, and is never corrupted.
This, therefore, is the objeft of fcience, reafon,

and

ANI^ METAPHY8ie& i^

aQdimderfiandiog, as man is the objed 9f fenfet.
and of thofe inconftaat opinions which are fomid^
ed upon fenfe. As the objefls of fenfe were ap-
prehended to have an externat exiftence, inde*
pendent of the aft of fcnfation, fo thefe objefts
of the underftanding were much more fuppofed to
have an external exillence independent of the aft
of underfi^Miding. Thefe external eflences were^
according to Plato, the exemplars, according to
which the Deity formed the world, and all the
fenfible objeds that are in it. The Deity compre-
hended within his infinite eflfcnce, all thefe fpe-^
cies, or eternal exemplars, in the fame manner
as he comprehended all fenfible objeA^»

Plato, however, feems to have regarded the firft
of thofe as equally diftinft with the fecond from
what we would now call the Ideas or Thoughts of
theDiyine Mind*, aQd ^vep ta have fuppofed,,

that

^ He c«Ut tliem, indetd, Uez^ a word wkich, in him, m
Ariftotle^ and all the other writers of earlier antiquity, figni-
(es a Species, and is pcrfedlj fynonimoui ix^th that other
word Ei}h » more frequently made ufe of bj Ariftotle. Aa, by
ibme of the later feda of ph^Iofqphen^, particularly by the Stoic«|
all fpecies, or fpecific eifencef, were regarded a» mere creaturet
of the mind, formed by abftradion, which had no real exif*
teiKe external to the tboughis that conceived them, the word
Idea came, by degieei, to its prefent figntfication, to mean,
fiift, an abftraft thought ot conception ; and afterwards, a
thought or conception of any kind; and thus became fynony*
nous with that other Greek word £vmi«, from which it had
wigiaally a very different meaning. When the later Plato*
>ifii, who lived at a time when the notion of the feparate ex*
ifteuce of fpecific eflences were univerfally exploded, began to
^^BUQMt U{H)n the writings of Flato^ and upon that firange

fiuBcy

464 HISTORY OP ANCIENT LOGICS

that they had a particular place of exiftcncc, be
yond the fphere of the vifible corporeal world ;

^hougl

fancy that, in kii writings, there wai a double doAriiie j z^
tkatthe/ were intended to feem to mean one thing, while a|
bottom the/ meant a vcty different, which the writings of n^
man in his fenfes ever, were, or ever could be intended to do t
they reprefenced his do6brtr(e as meaning do more, than thai
the Deity formfd the woi^ after what we would now call aH
Idea, or plan conceived in his own mind, in the ia^me ^^annq
as any other artift. But, if Plato had meant to e^prefs Jit\
morethr.n this moit natur;^land SmpIe.of a^l notions, hemighj
fuTcly have expreffedit more plainly, and would hardly, oii<
would thinh, have talked of k with io much emphafis, as oj
fomething which it r^qjuired the utmoft reach of thought uj
comprehend. According to this reprefentation, Plato's notion
of Species, or Unirerfals, was the fame^ with that of An^otle.
AriHotle, however, does aol leem to i^nderftand it as fuchj
he beftows a great part of his Metaphyfics upon confudog it,
andoppofesitin all his other works ; nor does he, in anj one
of them, give theleaft hint, or infinuation, as if it could be
fufpeded that, by the Ideas of Plato, was meant the thoughts
or conceptions of the Divine Mind. Is it poilible that he, Who
was twenty years in hi% fchooj, fhouU, during all that time,
have mifu^derftood him, efpecialiy. when hia meaning was fo
very plain and obvioua? Neither is this notion of thef^arate
ezifienciQ of Species, diftind both &om the mind which con-
ceives them, and from the feniible objects which ace made to
Tefemble th^m, pne Qi thofe doArines which Plato would but
feldom have occafion to 'talk of. However it may be inter-
preted, it is the very ba$s of his philofophy *, neither is there a
£ngle dial9(g.ue in all his woAs which does, not refier to it. Shall
we fuppofe, that that great philofopber, who appears to have
been fo much fi^erior to his mailer in every thing but elo-
quence, wilfully, and upon all occaiions, milreprefemed* no^
one of the deep and myfterious dodrines of the phibfophy of
Plato, but the firft and moft fundamental principle of all his

xeafoaiopj

AND METAPHTSreS. 164

fhough this has been much controverted, both
by the kter Platonifts, and by fomc very judi-

cioas

^fbningy; when the writings of Plato were in the handt o(
every body ; when his followers and difciples were fpread aU
over Greece-, when almoft tytxy Athenian of diftinftion^
that was nearly of the fame s^ge with Ariftotle, muft h^ve ^
heen bred in his fchool ; when Speqiippaa^ the nephew and
fuccefibr of Plato, a^s well as Xenocrates, w^o continued the
fchool in the Academy, at the fame time that Ariftotle held
kis in the Lyceum, muft l^ave been ready, at all ^mes, to ex-
pofe and ailront him for fuch ^rofi difingenuity. Does not
Cicero, does not Seneca underftand this dodtrine in the fame
manner as Ariftotle has reprefented it ? Is there any author
in all antiquity who feems to underftand it otherwife, earlier
than Plutarchi an author, who feems to hav^ b^en as bad a
eritic in philofophy as in hillory, and to have t^ken every
thing at fecond-hand in both, and who lived after the
origin of th^t eclectic philofophy, from whence the latei:
Platonifts arofe, and who feeois himfelf to have been one of
that fedt ? Is there any one paflage in any Greek author, near,
the time of Ariftotle and Plato, in which the wprd Idea is
uied in its prefent meaning, to fignify a thought or concep-
tion? Are' not the words^ yihich in all languages expreft
Teality or exiftence, direAIy oppofed to thofe which exprefs
thought, or conception only ? Or^ is there any other diffe*
rence betwixt a thing that exifts, and a thing that does not
«xift, except this, that the one is a mere conception, and that
the other is fomething more than a conception ? With what
propriety, therefore, could Plato t^\k of thofe eternal fpecies,'
n of the only thingi which had any real exiftence, if they '
were no more than the conceptions of the Divine Mind?
Had not the Deity, according to Plato, as well as accordmg
to the Stoics, from all eternity, the idea of every individual,
as well as of eve;ry fpedes, and of the ftate in which every
individual was to be, in each different inftance of its e2;iftence ?
Were not all the (Kvine ideas, therefore, of each individual, or

of

166, HISTOKT OF iiNGIENT LQGICS

cious modern critics> who have follo\ved iht in«
terpretation of the later Platonifts^: aa^ wh%t did

moft

«f all the diflferent dates, wHich eack iadiTidual wat to be uv
during the courfe of its exigence, equally eternal and unalter-
able with thofe of the fpecies? With what fenfe, tiKre£(»re»
could Plato fay, that the firft were eternal, becaufe the Deity
Kad conceived them from all eternity, fince he had c«nceive4
tne others from all eternity too, and iiuce hiai ideas of the Spe-
cies could, in this refped^, have no advantage of thoie of thq
individual? Does not Plato» in niany different places^ talk of
the Ideas of Species or Univerfals as innatt, and baviag been
impreffed upon the mind in its Hate of pre-exiftence, when it
}ud an opportunity of viewing thefe Species as they are iu
tkemfelves, and not as they are exprelTed in their o^ies^ oi*
jeprefentative upon earth ? But if the only place of thQ
cxiilence of thofe Species was the Divine Mind, will not thia
iiippofe, that Plato either imagined, like Father Malbranche^
that in its ilate of pre-exiftence» the mind faw all things in
God ; or that it was itfeif an emanation of the Divinity?
That he maintained the iirft opinion^ ^'iU. not be pretended
by any body who is at all verfed in the hiftory of fcience.
That enthufiailic notion, though it may feem to bt favoured
by ibme paflages in the Fathers, was never, it is well kndwa»
coolly and literally maintained by any body before that Car-
tefian philofopher. That the human mind was it&lf an ema-
nation of the Divine, though it was the doArine of the Stoics,
was by no means that of Plato ; though, upon the notion of a
pretended double doftrine, the contrary has lately been averted.
According to Plato, the Deity formed the foul of the w«rld
<uit of that fiibllance which is always the fame, that is, out of
Species or Univerfals*, out of that wl^ch is always difiertnt,
that is, out of corporeal fubflances; and out of afubiUn<M
that was of a middle nature between cheie, which it is not tufy
to underiland what he meant by. Out of a part of the fiimff
compofition, he made thofe inferior intelligences who suunuited
the celefdal ipheres, to whom he delivered the lemaiaiog p>vt

of

AND METAPHYSICS. ^ i€j

moft honour to the judgment of that rcnowne4
philofopher. All the objeds in this world, con*
tiDu6d he,, are particular aii'd individual. Here,
therefore, the human mind has no opportunity
of feeing any' Species, or Univerfal Nature*
Whatever ideas it has, therefore, of fuch beings,
for it plainly has them, it muft derive from th6
XQemory of what it has feen, in fome former pe-r
riod of its exiftence, when it had an opportunity
of vifuing the place or Sphere of Univerfals,
For fonie time after it is immerled in the body,
during its infancy, its childhood, aud a great
part of its youth, the violence of thofe paflions
ivLich it derives from the body, and which are
all directed to the particular and individual ob*
je^s of this world, hinder it from turning its
attention to thofe Univerfal Natures, with which
it had been ronverfani in the world from whence
it came. The Ideas, of thefe, therefore, feem,
iathis firft period of its exigence here, to be
oirerwhelmed in the confufion of thofe turbulent
emotions, and to be almoft entirdy wiped out
of its remembrance. During the continuance
of this (late, it is incapable of Reafoning, Sci->
ence and Philofophy, which are converfant

about

of it» to form from tbeoce the fouls of men and animals. The
ibuls of thofe inferior deities, though made out of a fimilar
fiibftasce or compofition, yirtrt not regarded as parts, or ema-
nations of that of the world ; nor were thofe of animals, ia
the fame manner, regarded as parts or emanations of thofe in-
ferior deities; much leis were anj of them regarded as. partly
or emanations of the great Author of all things.

|«« HISTORY OF ANCIENT LOGICW

^bo^t IJniverf^U. It9 whole attention is turned
upwards particular objedls, concerning which,
teing dire£led by nq general notions^ it form^
ipany vain and falfe opinions, ^nd is filled with
prror, perplexity, and conftifion. But, when
fige ha^ abated thg violence of its paflions, and
compofed the cpnfufion of its thoughts, it then
becomes more capable of refle^iion, and of turn-
ing its attention to thpfe almoil forgotten ideas
of things with \(^hich it had been converf^ot m
the former ftate of its exiftcnce, AU the par-
ticular objeAs in this fenfible world, beiog
formed after the eternal exe^plar^ in (hat in-
telledual world, awaken^ upon Recount of their
refemblance, infenfibly, and by flow degrees,
the almoft obliterated ideas of ^hcfe lafl. The
|)eauty, which is fhared in different degrees
amoDg terrellrial objefts, revives the fame idea
pf that ypiverfal Nature of beauty which ex:
ifis ii^ the intelledual world : particular aSs of
juftice, of the univerfal nature of juftice ; par-
ticular reafoniugs, and particular fciences, of
the univerfal pature of fcieqce, ^nd reafoning;
particular roundnefibs, of the univerfal nature
of roundnefs ; particular fquares, of the univer-
fal nature of fquarenefs. Thus fcience, which
is couverfaiit about Univerfala, i^ derived from
memory; and to infirud^ any perfoa concernioS
the general nature of any fubjed, is no more
thap to awfken in him the remembrance of
what he formerly knew abopf It, This both
Plato and Socrates imagined they could fiil^

further

And metaphysics. t^

further cdnfinn, by the fallacious ^acperimeat,^
i¥hich ihewed, that a perfon might be led to
difcover himfelf, without any information, any
general truth, of which he was before igno*
rant, merely by being afked a number of pro-
perly arranged and conneded queflions con*
ceming it«

The more the foul was accuftomed to the
confideration of thofe Univerfal Natures, the
lefs it was attached to any particular and indi-
vidual objedis ; it approached ' the nearer to the
original perfedion of its nature, from which,
according to this philofophy, it had fallen.
Philofophy, which accuiloms it to confider the
general Eflence of things only, and to abftrafl
from all their particular and feniible circum-
fiances, was, upon this account,* regarded as
the great purifier of the foul. As death fepa-
rated the foul from the body, and from the
bodily fenfes and paffions, it reftored it to that
intelleAual world, from whence it had origi-
nally defcended, where no fenfible Species called
off its attention from thofe general fiflences of
things. Philofophy, in this life, habituating it
to the fame confiderations, brings it, in fome
degree, to that fiate of happinefs and perfec-
tion, to which death refiores the fouls of juft
men in a life to cpme.

Such was the dofirine of Plato concerning
the Species or Specific Eflence of things. This,

at

"^jb HISTORY OF ANCIENT tiOCICS

«t leaft, is what his words feem to import, and
thus he is underftood by Ariftotle, the moft
Intelligent and the moft renowned of all his
tlifciples. It is a dodrine, which, like many
of the other dodlrines of abftraft Philofophy,
Is more coherent in the lexpreiSon than in the
idea ; and which feems to have arifen, more from
the nature of language, than from the nature of
things. With all its imperfedions it was cxcu-
iable, in, the beginnings of philofophy, and is
not a great deal more remote from the truth,
than many others which have fince been fubfti-
tuted in its room by fome of the greateft pretend-
ers to accuracy and precifion. Mankind have
had, at all times, a ftrong propenfity to rea!ize
their own abflradions, of which we fhall imme-
diately fee an e^cample, in the notions of that
very philofopter who firft expofed the ill-ground-
ed foundation of thofe Ideas, or Univerfals, of
Plato and Timaeus. To explain the nature,
and to account for the origin of general Ideas,
is, even at this day, the greateft difficulty in ab-
ftraft philofophy. How the human mind, when
it rcafons concerning the general nature of tri-
angles, ftiould either conceive, as Mr. Locke
imagines it does, the idea of a triangle, which is
neither obtufangular, nor reftangular, nor acu-
tangular ; but which was at once both none and
all of thofe together ; or ftiould, as Malbranche
thinks neceflary for this purpofe, comprehend
at once, within its finite capacity, all poflibte
triangles of all poffible forms . and dimenfions,

which

AND METAPHYSICS. 17!

ivhich are infiaite in number, is a qneftion, to
which it is furely not eafy to give a fatisfaiSory
anfwer. Malbranche> to folve it, had reconrfe
to the enthufiaflic and iiDintelligible notion of
the intimate union of the human mind with the
divine, in whofe infinite eflfence the immenfity
of fuch fpecies could alone be comprehended ;
and in which alotie, therefore, all finite intelli-
gences could have an opportunity of viewing
them. If, after more than two thoufand years
reafoning about this fubje6t, this ingenious and
Tublime philofopher was forced to have recourfe
to fo ftrange a fancy, in order to e:itplain it, can
we wonder that Plato, in the very firft <lawn-
ings of fcience, fliould, for the fame purpofe, a-
dopt an hypothefis, which has been thought,
without much reafon, indeed, to have fome af-
finity to that of Malbranche, and which is not
more out of the way ?

What feems to have mifled thofe early philofo-
phers, was, the notion, which appears, at firft,
natural enough, that thofe things, out of which
any objeft is compofed, muft exift antecedent to
that objeft. But the things out of which all par-
ticular objefts feem to be compofed, are the ftuff
or matter of thofe objefts, and the form or fpe-
cific Eflence, which determines them to be of
this or that clafs of things. Thefe, therefore,
it was thought, muft have exifted antecedent to
the object which was made up between them.

Plaioi

ij* HISTORY or ANCIENT LOCicS

l^iato, who held, that the fenfible world, which*
according to him, is the world of individuals,
Was made in time, neceffarily conceived, that
both the univerfal matter* the objed of a fpuri-
pus reafon, and the fpeci^c eflencei the objeft
of proper reafon and philofophy out of which
it was compofed, muft have had a feparate ejEif-
tence from all eternity* This inteiledual worlds
very different from the intelld6lt;iai wotld of Cud-
worth, though much of the language of one has
been borrowed from that of the othei*, Was ne-
ceffarily, and always eziftent ; whereas the fen*
iible world owed its origin to the free will and
bounty of its author*

A notion of this kind, as long as it is ezpreff-
fed in very general language; as long as it is not
much refted upon; nor attempted to be very
particularly and diftindly explained, paiT^ ealily
enough, through the indolent imagination, ac-
cuftomed to fubftitutc words in the room of
ideas ; and if the words feem to hang eafily to«
gether, requiring no great preciiion in the ideas<
It vauifties, indeed ; is difcovered to be altoge-
ther incomprehenfible, and eludes the grafp of
the imagination, upon an attentive confideration.
It requires, however, aa attentive confideration ;
and if it had been as fortunate as many other
opinions of the fame kind, and about the fame
fubje£^, it might, without examination, have con-
tinued to be the current pholofopby for a centu-
ry

AND METAPHYSICS. 17J

ry or two. Ariftotle, however* feems icaineidiat^
ly to have difcoyer^d, thai it was impoflible to
coaceive, as adually exiileat, either that general
matter, which was not determined by any parti-;
cular fpocies, or thofe fpecies which wese not
embodied, if one may fay fo, in fome particular
portion of matter* Ariftotle, too* held, as we
have. already obferved, the eternity of the fcnfi-
ble world. Thoiigli he held, therefore, that all
fcnfible obje£ls were made up of two prin^iplest
both of which, he calls, equally, fubftances, the
matter and the fpecific cfflcnce, hd was not oblig-
ed to hold, like Plato, that thofe principles ex^
ified prior in the order of time to the objeft^
which they afterwards compofed. They were
prior, he faid, in nature, but not in time, acr
cording to a diftin&ion which was of ufe to
him upon fome othei^ occafions. He difiinguifli-
ed, too, betwixt adual and potential exiftence*
By the firft, he fe^nas to have uoderfiood, what
is commonly meapt, by exiftence or reality; by
the fecond, the bare poifibility of exiftence*
His meaning, I fay, feems to amount to this;
though he does not explain it precifely in this
manner. Neither the jnaterial Efience of body
could, according to him, exift aSually without
being determined by fome fpecific EfTence, to
fome panicular clafs of things, nor any fpecific
Eflence without being embodied in fome parti-
cular portion of matter. Each of thefe two prior
(iples, however, could exift potentially in this
%arate ftate« That matter exifted potentially^
N which.

i^4 aiStOAV O* ANClfiNT^ LOGldS

which/ bekg endowed with a ptiticulftir forfn,
<k)uld be Wiigfbt into adlual etiftence ; and that
form, which, by being embodied in a particu-
lar ponfon pf matter, could, in the fame man^
fier, be called forth into the clafs of complete
tealitiediT Thie^ potential ejliftence of matter and
Jbrm, be fanftetinies talkjt of; in expieffions
which very n$nch refemble thofe <^ Plato, t<^
it^hofe notion of feparate Effence it beara a very
great affinity^

* Ariftotle, who &ems in many things original^
and who ^deavoured ta feem to be ib m all
things, added thre principle of ptiyati^n t« thofe
h{ matter and- JEbrm, which he had •derived front
tbe ancient Pythagorean fchool. When Water
is changed into Ait, the tranfm^ation id brought
about by th^ material principle of tbofe two ele-
ments being deprived of the form 6f IVatei^
and then affuming the form of Air. Privation,
therefore, was a third principle oppofite to form,
which entered ifnto^ the generatito of every- Sp6
cies, which #as always from ibme other Sp^
ties. It was a principle of generatioB> but not
of compofitioB, as is obvious.

The Stoics whdfe opinions were, ia all tke
different parts of philofopii]^^ either the ftaat
with, or v^ry: nearly allied to thofe of Ariilotic
and Plato, though often, difguifed in vuy dif*
feren^ langruge, held, that all things, even tk
islemeats theoafelve5> were oompounded of two

principles,

AUty Ml^TAPHYSrcS. i^*

pi iDtiplcs, upon one of which depended all the
aftive; and upon the other, all the paffive pow-
ers oF thefe bodied; The latt of thefe, they calU
cd the Matter ; the firft, the Caufe, by whichf
they meskil^t the Very fame thing which Ariftdtl^
totd Plato underftood, by their fpecific Eflences.
Mattct, according to the Stoics, could haVt no*
exiftence fepairate from the tatifc or efficient'
priaciplc which determined it to fotne particu-
lar clafs of things: Neither could the efficient^
principlie eiift fepatately frbm the material, ' lA'
whVch it was always ttecetfarily embodied. iTh'elr*
dpinlonj therefore, fo fai^ coincided with that of
the old Peripatetics. The cfl&cient principle,
they faid, was the Deity. By which they meant,'
that it was a detached portion of the etherfal '
and diviile nature^ which penetrated all things/
that conftituted what PWtdivould have called thtf*
fpecific Eflence of each individual crt)jeft ; and*
fo far their opinion coincides pretty nearly Avi^h'
that of the- latter Platonifts, who held, that the*
fpecific Eflences of all things werfe detached'
portions of their created deity, the fbiil' of the
Avorld ; and with that of fome of the Arabian
and Scholaftic Commentators of'Atiftotle, who'
held, that the fubflantial forms of all things de-
fcended from thofe Divine Eflences which ani-
mated the Cdeftial Spheres. Snfch was the doc-
trine of the four principal Seds of the ancient
Philofophers, concerning the fpecific EfTencel of'
things, of the old Pythagoreans, of the Acade-
<femical, Pcripatetici and Stoical Beds, - ' '

I N 2 As-

4?$ instORY OF ANCIENT LOGlds

As this dodrin^ of fpecific Elleaces feems n^**
rurally euough to have arifen from that ancient'
fyftem of Phyfica, which I have above defcribed,.
and which is, by no means, devoid of probabi-
lity, fo many of the dodrines of that fyftem,
which feem to us, who have been long accuftom-
ed to another, the moft incomprehenfible, neccf-
farily flow from this metaphyiical notion^ Such
are thofe of generation, corruption^ and altera-
tion n of mixture^, qondenfation, aixd rarefadion.
A body wa3 generated or cornipced> when i(
changed its fpecific Eflence, and paiTed from one
denomination to another. It was altered when
it changed only fome of its qualities, but ilill
retained the fame fpeeific ElTence, and the fame
<lenomination. Thus, when a flower was wither-
ed^ it was not corrupted ; though fome of its
qualities were changed, it ftill retained the fpe-
cific EflTence, and therefore juftly pailed under
the denomination of a flower. But, when, ia
the further progrefs of its decay, it crumbled
into earth, it was corrupted ; it loft the fpecific
Eflence, or fubftantial form of the flower, and
afTumed that of the earth, and therefore juilly
changed its denomination.

The fpecific Effence, or tmivcrfal nature that
was lodged in each particular clafs of bodies,
was not itfelf the objedl of any of our fenfes,
but could be perceived only by the underftand-
ing. It was by the fenfible qualities, however,
that we judged of the fpecific EflTence of each

objcfl.

AND METAPHYSICS. 177

objed. Some of thefe feufible qualities, there-
fore, we regarded as eiTential, or fuch as fhowed,
by their prefence or abfence, the prefencc or ab-
fence of that eflential form from which they ne-
ceflarily flowed; Others were accidental, or fuch
whofe prefi^Qce or abfence bad do fuch neceffary
confequences. The firft of thefe two forts of
qualities w^s palled Propertif^s ; the fecofid, Ac*
cidents.

In thp Specific Eflfence of each obje£l itfelf,
they diftinguifhed two pans; one of which wa$
peculiar and charaAeriftical pf the clafs of things
of which that particular obje£l was an iudividu*
al, the other was commpn to it with fome other
higher claiTes of things. Thefe twp payts were,
to the Specific pflence, pretty much w^at the
Matter and the Specific fiifence were tp each in-
dividual body. The one, which was called the
Genus, was modified ^nd determined by the
other, which was palled the Specific pifierencet
pretty much ia the fame manner as the univerlal
matter contained ia each body was modified and
determined by the Specific Eflence of that par-
ticular clafs of bpdies. Thefe four, with the
Specific Eff^nce or Species itfeUV made up the
number of the Five Univerfals, fo well known
in the fchools by the names of Genus, Species,
Differentia, Proprium, and Accidents.

OF THB

NATURE or rmr IMITATION

WHICH TAKES PLACE llf lyHAT ARE CALLED

THE IMITATIVE AI^TS.

QF TH»

; IMITATIVE AI^TS^

PART I.

X HE moft perfef^ imitation of an obje6i of any.
kind mud in all cafes, it is evident, be another ^
obje^l of the fame kind, made as €xzQ\j as pofp
fible after the fame model. What, for example,
would be the mofl perfe^ imitation of the car^
pet ivhich nQW Ilea before me ? Another carpet,
certainly, wrought as eza£lly a$ pofiible Mter the
fame pattern. B^t, wha^t^vf r might be the me«
xit or beauty of this fecond carpet, it would no|t
be fuppofed to de^v^ any from the circumft^nce;
of its^ having been made in imitation of the firft.
This circumftance of its being pot an original,
but a copy, would even be coi^fidered as fomo
diminution of that merit ; a greater or fmaller,
in proportion as the objed was of a nature tq
lay claim to a greater or fmalier degree of adr
miration. It would not much diminifli the merit
of a common carpet, becaufe in fuch trifling ob^
jeds, which at beft can lay claim to lb littl^

beauty

i8s OF THE IMITATIVE AJRTS.

beauty or merit of any kind, we do not always
think it worth while to^^ed originality; it would
diminiih a good deal Akt of a carpet of very ex-
quifite workmanfliip, In obje&s of (till greater
imponaAce^ t^ia exa£l, or, ae it would be called,
this fervile imitation, would be confidered as the
moft unpardonable bleipiih, To build another
St. Peter's, or St. Paul's church, of exadly the
fame dimenfious, proportious, and ornaments
with the prefent buildings at Rome, or London,
would be fuppofed to argue fuch a miferable bar-
jennefs of genius and invention as would dif-
grace the moft ezpenfive magnificcpcCf

'The exaft refemblance of the correfpondent
parts of the fame obje6l is frequently confider-
ed as a beauty, and the want of it aa a defor-
mity; as in the correfpondent members of the
human body, in the oppofite wings of the fame
building, in the oppofite trees of the fame alley,
in the correfpondent compartments of the fame
piece of carpet- work, or of the fame flower-gtr*
den, ia the chairs or tables which ftand in the
correfpondent parts of the fame room, &c. fitit
in objeAs of the fame kind, which in other re-
fpeAs are regarded as altogether fepant^ and
unconneded, this exa^ refemblance is feldom
confidered as a beauty, nor the want of it as a
deformity. A man, and in the fame manner a
horfe, is handfome or ugly, each of them, on
account of his own intrinfic beauty or deformi-
ty, without any r^ard to their rcfembling or

act

©F THE Ilfl'yATIVE ARTJL' rtj

dot refembling, the one, naother man, ov
tlie other, another' horfet A fet of €oach*»
hotlfes, indeed, k fuppofed to be h&ndfoiner
when tbcf are- all «xadly matched ; but each
horle 18, in thi« cafe, confider^d not as a fepa«^
rated aad «nconneded objefi, or as a whole by
hiiaCelf, but as a part of another whole, to tha
other parts of which he ought to bear a certain^
correfpondence : Separated from the fet, he de-
rives aeither beauty from bis refemblance, not
deformity froiB his unlikenefs to the other horlfi
n^ich com^pofe it.

Sven in the correfpoodent parts of the fanqe
oi>joA, we frequently require no more than a
refend^lance in the general outline* If the in-
ferior members of thofe correfpoadent parts are
too minute to be feen diftinfily, without a fepa^
rate and diftinfi eiamitiation of each part by
itfetf, as a foparate and unconneded objed, we
fliould fometimes even be difpleafed if the re-
fembUmee was carried beyond this general out<-
line. In the correfpondent parts of a room we
frequently hang pidures of the fame fize ; thofe
pldures, however, refemble one another in no-
thing but the frame, or, perhaps, in the general-
charaSer of the fubjed : If the one is a land-
fcape, the other is a landfcape too ; if the one
reprefents a religious or a Bacchanalian fubjed,
its companion reprefents another of the fame
hind. Nobody ever thought of repeating the
feme pi&ure.in ei|cb ^rrefp<Hadent Ihune. The

frame^

^84 OF TH? IMITATIVl ARTS*

frain9> afid the general charafler of two or three
piAures, is as much as the eye can comprehend
at one view> or from one ftation. Each piAure,
in order to be feen diftinftly, and underftood
thoroughly, muft be viewed from a particular
ftation, and examined by itfelf as a feparate
and uncqnnedled object la a hall or portico,
adorned with ftatues, the nitcfaes, or perhaps
the pedeftals^ may exa&ly refemble one another,
but the ftatues are always di£ferent. J^ven the
naiks which are fometimes carried upon the
different key-ftones of the fame arcade, or of
the correfpondent doors and windows of the
fame front, though they may all refemble one
another in the general outline, yet each of them
has always its own peculiar features, and a gri*
mace of its own. There are foroe Gothic buildy
ings in which the correfpondent windows re^
femble one another only in the general outline,
and not in the fmaller ornaments and fubdivi-
£ons. Thefe are different in each, and the ar-
chited had confidered them as too minute to
be feen diftinflly, without a particular and fe*
parate examination of each wjndow by itkVf
as a feparate and unconne&ed objed. A variety
of this fort, however, J think, is not agreeable.
In objedis which are fufceptible only of a cer-
tain inferior order of beaut)^ fuch as the frames
of pidures, the nitchea or the pedeftals of fta*
tues, &c. there feems frequently to be affedation
in the ftudy of variety^ of which the merit is
£p.arcely ever fufiicient to compenfate the want

of

6F the IMTTATIVE ART& ili

4^f that perfpicuity and diftindnefs, of that ea^*
Jinefs to be comprehended and remembered,
which io the natural e£fed of exa& uniformity*
la a portico of the Corinthian or Ionic order,
each column refembles every other, not only in
the general outline, but in all the minuteft or-*
naments ; though fome of them, in order to be
feen diflinAly, may require a feparate and dif-
tind examination in each column, and in the
entablature of each intercolumniation. In the
inlaid tables, which, according to the prefent
fkOkion^ are fometimes fixed in the correfpond*.
ent parts of the fame room, the pidures only
are different in each. All the other more fri«.
volous and fanciful ornaments are comq^only,
fo far at leaft as I have obferved the fafhion,
the fame in tbem all. Thofe ornaments, haw-
ever, in order to be feen difl;in£lly, require
a feparate and difiin£l examination of each
table.

The extraordinary tefemb^nce of two natural
objedls, of twins, for example, is regarded as.
a curious circmnfVance ; which, though it does
not increafe, yet does not diminiih the beauty,
of either, confidercd as a feparate and uncon-
ncQed object. But the exad refemblance of
two produftions of art, fceros to be always con-
fidered as fome diminution of the merit of at
leaft one of them ; as it feems to prove, that
one of them, at leaft, is a copy either of the.
other, or of fome other original. One may fay,.

even-

rfrf OF THE IMITATIVE AR*f Si

even of the copy of the pifturc, that it dcrKcj
its merit, not fo much from it« refemblancc to
the original, as from its refemblance to the ob-
jc£k which the original was meant to refeihblc.
The owner or the copy, fo fair ftdm* fetting any
high value upon its refenifeTance to the driginal,
is often anxious to ddtroy dny value or merit
which it might derive from tHii cii'cumftance.
He- ii often anxious to perfbsid^ both himfelf
and other people that it is not a cdpy, but aa
original, of which what pafles for the original is
only a copy. But, whatever merit a- copy may
derive frdm it^ refemblance to the original, an
original can certainly derive none ff om the re^
femblance of its copy.

But tfadugh a produ£lion of art feldom derives
any merit from its refemblance to another objeft
of the fame kind, it frequently derives a great
deal from its refemblance to an objeft of a diiTe^
rent kind, whether that objeft be a prodaftioa
of art or of nature. A painted cloth, the work
of fome laborious Dutch artift, fo curioufly ihaded
and coloured as to reprcfent the pile and foftoefs
of a woollen one^ might derive fo(ne merit from
its refemblance even to the forry carpet which
now lies before me* The copy might, and pro-
bably would, in this cafe, be of much greater
value than the original. But if this carpet was
reprefented as fpread, either upon a floor or
lipon a table, and projefting from the back ground
of the pifturej with exaft obfervation of pcrfpcc-

tfvc,

0» HIE IMITATIVE ART* t9f

tivC) and of light and fliade, the mciit of the
Vnitttioa Would be fiill greater.

In Painting, a jplain fiirface of one kind iM
made to refemble, not only a plain ftirfBtce of
another^ but all the three dimenfions of a folidf
fabfliance. In Statuaay and Sculpture, a folid*
fubftanc^ of one kind, is made to tefemble z
&lid fubfiance of another. The difparity be**
tween the objed imitating, and the objed inii«»'
tated, is much greater in the one art than in the
other ; and the pleafure aiifing from the imitation
feeros. to be greater in proportion as this difparity
is greater*

In Paintiag, the imitation frequently pleafe^i

though'th60ri^nalobje& be indifferent, or even

offcnfive. In Sutuary and Sculpture it is othet^

wife. The imiution feldom pleafes, unlefs the

original objed; be in a very high degree either

great, or beautifiil, or interefting^ A butcher's

ftall, or a kitchen^dreifer, with the obje&s which

they commonly prefent, are not certainly the

happieft fubje£ts, even for Paintingi They

have^ however, been reprefented with fo much

care .and fuccefs by fome Dutch mafters, that it

is impofiible to view the pifturcs without fome

degreb of pleafure* They would be moft abfvird

fubje^ls for Statuary or Sculpture^ which are,

however, capable of reprefenting them. Tht

pifture of a very ugly or deformed man, fuch

as £fop, or Scarron, might not make a difagree-

able

iK Of THE IMITATIVE ARlCt

able piece of furniUire. The fUtue certainly
would. Even a vulgar ordinary maa or womsia,
engaged in a ^ vulgar ordinary a£tioa» like what
we fee with fo much, pleafure in the pi&ures of
Rembra^ti would be too laean a fttbje& forSta-
tuary. Jupiter*- HetcuiQ9> and Apollo^ Venus
and Diana, the Nympha. and the Graces, Bac-
chus, Mojrcury, Antinous and Meleager, the
miferable death of Lai3icoo&» the melancholy fate
of the children of Niobe, the Wreftlers, the
fighting, the dying gladiator, the figures of gods
and goddefles, of heroes and heroijxe$» the mod
perfed forms of the human body, pkced either
in the nobleft attitudes, or in the moft intereft*
ing fituations which the human imaginati(m is
capable of conceiving, are the proper, and
therefore have always been the favourite fub*
jeSs of Statuary: that art cannot, without de-
grading itfelf, iloop to reprefent any thing. that
is ofFenfive, or mean, oreven.indifierent* Paint-
ing is not fodifdainfuU and, though capable ol
reprefenting the nobleft objefls, it can, without
forfeiting its title to pleafe, fubmit to imitate thofe
of a much more humble nature. The merit of
the imitation alone, and without any merit in the
imitated obje£l> is capable offupportiag the dig*
nity of Painting ; it cannot fupport that of Sta-
tuary. There would feem, therefore, to be
more merit in the one fpecies of imitation than
in the other. -

In

OF TiiE IMITATIVE ARTS. 1I9

In Statuary, fcafcelyany drapery is agreeable.
The beft of the ancient ftatues were either alto-
'gether naked or almoft naked; and thofe of which
any confidcrable part of the body' is covered, are
reprefetitcd ais clothed in wet linen — a fpecies of
clothing which moft certainly never was agreeable
to the faftiion of any country. This drapery too
is drawn fo tight, as to exprefs beneath its nar-
row foldings the exad form and outline of any
limb, atxd almoft of -every mufcle of the body.
The clothing which thus approached the neareft
to no clothing at all, had, it feems, in the judg-
ment of the great artifts of antiquity, been that
which was moft fuitabk to Statuary. A greats
painter of the Roman fchool, who had formed his
manner almoft entirely upon the ftudy of the an-
cient ftatues, imitated at firft their drapei*y in
his pidlures ; but he foon found that in Painting
it had the air of meannefs and poverty, as if the
perfons who wore it could fcarce afford clothes
enough to cover them ; and that larger folds, and
aloofer and more flowing drapery, were more
fuitable to the nature of his art. In Painting, the
invitation of To very inferior an obje£l as a fuit of
clothes is capable of pleaiing ; and, in order to
give this objecSl all the magnificence of which it is
capable, it is necefTary that the folds ftiould be
large, loofe, and flowing. It is not neceffary in
Painting that the exafl. form and outline of every
hoib, and almoft of every mufcle of the body,
fliould be expreffed beneath the folds of the dra-
pery ; it is fufiicient if thefe are fo difpofed as to
O indicate

igh OV f HE IMtTA^TIVt Aktt.

indicate in general tlie fltuaflon and attitade of
the principal limbs. Painting, by the tneic force
and merit of its iniitation, can vcnfiire, without
the hazard of difpleafing, tofdbftitnte, upioh ma-
ny occafions, the inferior in the room of the fu-
periorobjed^, by making the one, in thts'm^nner,
'cover and entirely conceal % great part of the
other. Statuary can feldom venture to do this,
but with the utmoft referveand caution ; and the
•fame drapery, vrhich is noble and magnificent in
the one art, appears clumfy and awl Ward in the
other. Some nioderh artifts, however, have attfcmpt-
^edto introduce inta Statuary the drapery which is
"peculiar to Tainting. It may not, pi^rhaps, upon
^cvery occafion, be quite fo ridiculous as the mar-
ble ^leriwigs in Wefffaiinfler Abbey i but, if it
idods not always appeaT'dumfy and awkward, it
is at beft always infipid and uninterefKng^

It is not the want of colouring* which hinders
many things from pleafirig in Statuary, which
^leaiSe in Painting ; it is the want of that degree of
difparity between the ittiitating and the imitated
objeft, which is neceflary, in order to render in*-
^^refting the imitation of an objeft which is itfrff
liot interefting. Colouring, when added to Sta-
tuary, fo far from xncreafing, deftroysalmoft en-
tirely the pleafdre which we recurve from the hni-
tation ; becaufe it takes away the great fourcc of
that JDleafure, the difparity between the imitating
and the imitateid objeft. That one folidand co-
loured Jibjeft ftiould" exaftly rrfcmbde antother fo-
%^d and coloured obje£t> ^eems to be a matter of

no

OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS- 191

DO great wonder or admiration. A painted fta-
tue, though it certainly may refemble ia humaa
figure much more exadly than any ftatue which
is not painted, is generally ^acknowkdged to be
a difagreeable, aiideveaano£[enfiveobje&; and
fo far are we from being pleafed with this fu-
perior likenefs, that we are nev^r fatisfied with
it ; and, after viewing it again and ^in, we air-
ways find that it is not equal to what we are dif-
pofed to imagine it might have been : though it
ihould feem to want fcarce any thing but the life»
we could not pardon it for thus wanting i what it
is altogether impoiBble it ifhould have. The
works of Mrs. Wright, a felf-taught artift of gr«c
itierit, 4ire perhaps more jlerfefl in this way than
any thing I have. ever feen. They do admirabljr
well to be fe^n now and then as a Ihow ; but the
beftof them we fhould find, if brought hooie.ta
our own houfe^ and placed in a fituation where it
was te come jafter into view, vwuld make, iofiea4
of an ornamental, a moft oilenfive piece of houfo
hold furniture. • Fainted ilatucis, • accordingly, ^xfi
univerfally reprobated, and wcifcarce ever.,xnei?t
4vith them. To colour, the eyes of ftatues is not
idtogetberifouncomoion.: ev^this, however*, is
diiapproved by.all good;judges* "I cannot bear
it,'' (a'gentiomaniUfed tofay,.of^gr€;at,kaowle4gp
and judgment in.iibisArt,) ^M caoAftt he^.itj f
always want them to fpeak to me.''

*A^ificiaI fruits and flpMfers fomainKis imit^e
^^xaAly tbcjaatural/ot^ie^s which th^y .ijcprQfejgyt,
^at they frequently deceive us. We foon grow

Oz weary

i5i OF THfi IMITATIVE ARTS.

weary of them, however ; iind, though they fccni
to want nothing but the frefhnefs and the fla-
vour of natural fruits and flowers, we cannot par-
don them, in the fame manner, for thus wanting
what it is altogether impoffible they fliiould havc^
But we do not grow weary of a good flower and
fruit painting. We do not grow weary of the fo-
liage of the Corinthian capital, or of the flowers
which fometimes ornament the frize of that order.
Such imitations, however, never deceive us;
their refemblance to the original obje&s is always
much inferior to that of artificial fruits and flow-
ers. Such as it is, however, we are contented
with it ; and, where there is fiich difparity be-
tween the imitating and the imitated objefisi we
£nd that it is as great as it can be, or as we ex-
pe& that it (hould be. Paint that foliage and t)iofe
flowers with the natural colours, and^ infteadof
pleafing more, they will pleafe much lefs. The
refemblance, ^however^ will be much greater;
but the difparity between the imitating and the
imitated objeds will be fo much lefs, that even this
fuperior refemblance will not fatisfy us/ Where
the difparity is very great, on the contrary, we
are often contented with the moft imperfed re<>
femblance ; with the very imperfe^ refemblance,
for example, both as to figure and colour, of
fruits and flowers in ihell-work«

It may be obferved, however, that, though in
Sculpture the imitatidn of flowers and foliage
pleafesas^u ornament of archite^ure, as a part

of

OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS. 19s

©f the drcfs which is to fet off the beauty of 9 dif-
ferent and more important obje£l> it would not
pleafe alone, or as a feparat^ apd unconneded
obje£^, in the fame manner as a fruit and flower
painting pleafes. Flowers and foliage, how ele-
gant and beautiful foever, are not fufHciently in-
terefting; they have not dignity enough, if I
may fay fo, to be proper fubje&s for a piece o(
Sculpture, which is. to pleafe ^lone, and not ^9
the prn^iQental appendage of fome other object*

In Tapeftry and Needle-work, in the fame
manner as in Painting, a plain furface is fome*'
times made to reprefent all the three dimeniions
of a folid fubftancc, Byt both the fhuttle of th^
weaver, and the needle of the ^i^broiderer, are .
inftruments of imitation fo mqcl^ iqferior to the
pencil of the painter, that we ^re not furprifed to
find a proportioqabl^ inferiority in their produce
tions. We have all more or lefs experience that
th^y ufually are much inferior ; and, in appreci-
ating a piece of Tapeftry or Needle-work, we ne*
ver compare the imitatioi^ pf either with that of a
good pidlure, for it never could ftand that com-
parifon, but with that of other pieces of Tapeftry
or Needle-work. We take into confidcration, not
only the difparity between the imitating and the
imitated obje£l, but the awkwardnefs of the in-
ftruments of imitation ; and if it is as well as any
thing, that can be ezpe£led from thefe, if it is bet-
ter than the greater part of what actually comes
from them, we are often not wly contented but
highly pleafed.

A good

ff4 ^* THE IMltAtlVa ARTS/

A gobd ?lamter will often e:a€cut<jiii aftw<fays
ii fubjie6l which ^otild employ r-hte- beft upcflry-
i^ezvcY many years; thou^, ift proportion to
Ais time, therefor^,- the Idtter is always much
worfe paid than the former, yet bia work in the
end comes commonly mnch dearfcr to market,
'the great expence of good Tap6ftty, the circum-
ftanc^ which confines it t6 the palaees of princes
and great lords, gives it, in the eyes of ibe great-
er part of people, afi air of riches and magnifi^
cence, which contributes ftill further to compen-
fate the impcrfedlion of its imitaftion. In arts
which addrefs themfelves, not lo the prudent and
the wife, but to the rich and the great, to the
proud and the vain, we ought not to wonder if
the appearance of great expence, of being what
few people can purcbafe, of being ose of the far-
tft charafterifHcs of great fortune, ihould often
Hand in the place of exquifite beauty, and con-
tribute equally to recommend their productions.
As the idea of expence feems often to embeJHft,
fb that of cheapnefs feems as frequently to tarniih
the luflre even of very agreeable obje6is. The
difference between real and falfe jewels is what
iven the experienced eye of a jeweller can fome-
tinles with difficulty diftinguifh. Let an unknown
lady, however, come into a public afifcmbly,
tvith a head-drefs which appears to be very richly
adorned with diamonds, and let a jeweller only
whifper in our ear that they are falfe flones, not
only the lady will immediately fink in our imagi-
nation from the rank of a princefs to that oi a

very

Off TBS, II^ATIVl^ ^RT^ ^

^?y. Of 4iwry WC^uw* but the^faqj^drdrcfs, froirij
a^ obje^ of tl^ ^ipft fpleiadid ma^nx^ence/ will
at oac^ become ?ia ioiyertiacnt pi^(:e of tj^wdrj.
^^4 tinfel finery.

It waa (ome years ;»go the fail^ioa to ornament
^ garden with yew a^nd holly t^-ees, clipped iut^
Xh^^ artifi^cial ib^p^s of. pyramids, 904 99l^^^Q^
|in4 vafes,, a^d ob^liiks. It is uow the faihioj^
to ri4^^ tbi;s tafte aa uism^tui-i^l. The figure of
^ pysaiiud or obe^iQc, >howevex;, is npt ^ore un-
]iatu.ral tq a yew-tree than to. a h\f)c\^ of porphyry
ftr ipiaxbler Whpn, the y?w-t^:ee is prefente4 to
the eye in f l^is artificial il^pe, the gardener does
nQt n^^^ (hi^t it Should be undf;rfiqo(l to have
grown in tb^t IJiapp j be meansi, firft, to give i^
th^^ fame beauty of Tegular figure, '^yhkh ples^fes
fo jsnuch in porphyry and marble ; ^pd, fecon4-
ly, tp imitate i|i ^ growing tfee the orp^pients of
thofe precipUJ^ lU^ii^rials \ he mean^ tp ipa|f:e ^ql
ob]e£t of ope kind r^emble ^pother o.bjed of a
very different j^ind j ^nd ta the prigip^l beauty
of figure to join the relgtiye b^^uty of imitation :
but thj^ difparity.betw$(pn tbe imitating and the
iniitsited obje6l is the fqundatipn pf the beauty pf
imitation. It is becaufe the one pbje^ do^s npt
naturally refemble the other, that \ire are fq much
pleafed with it, when by art it is made to do {q.
The ftiears of the gardener^ it m^y be faid, in-
deed, are very clumfy inftrument^ of Sculpture.
They grc fo, ap doubt, when employf^ tQ imi-
tate

i^ OP THE IMITATrVI ARTS.

late the figures of men, or even of animah.
But in the fimple and regular forms of pyramids,
vafes, and obelifks, even the Ihears of the gar-
dener do well enough. Some allowance too is
naturally made for the neceffary impcrfeAion of
the inftrument, in the fame manner as in Tapef-
try and Needle-work. In fhort, the next time
you have an opportunity of fortcying thofe out-
of-faihion ornaments, endeavour only eoletyour-
felf alone, and to reftra^n fbr a few minutes the
foolifh. pafiion for playing the critic, and you
will be feniible that they are not without fome de-
gree of beauty ; that they give the air of neatnefs
and correft culture at leaft to the whole garden ;
and ihcy are not unlike what the ** retired leifure,
thai" (as Milton fays) " in trim gardens takes his
plcafure," might be amufed with. What then,
it may be faid, has brought them into fuch oni-
verfal difrepute among us ? In a pyramid or obe-
lifk of marble, we know that the materials ^rc ex-
peniive, and that the labour which wrought thera
into that ihape muft have been ftill more fo. lo a
pyramid or obelifk of yew, we know that the nia«
tcrials could coft very little, and the labour fliH
lefs. The former are ennobled by their ex-
pence 5 the latter degraded by their cheapnefs.
In the cabbage-garden of a tallow-chandler wc
may fometimcs perhaps have fecn as many co-
lumns and vafes, and other ornaments in yew, as
there are in marble and pophyry at Verfailles : it
is this vulgarity which has difgraced them. . The
rich and the great, the proud and the vain, will

not

OF THE IMrrATWE ART* 197

not admit into their gardens an ornament which
the meaneft of the peapl^ can have as well as they,
The tafte for thefe ornaments came originally
from Prance.; where, notwhhftanding that in-
conftancy of falhion with which we fometimes re^
proach the natives of that country, it ftill conti-
nues in good repute. In France, the condition
of the inferior ranks of people isfeldom fo happy
as it frequently is in England j and you will there
' fcldom find even pyramids and obeliflcs of yew
in the garden of a tallow-chandler. Such orna-
mentsy' not having in that country been degrad-
ed by their vulgarity, have ridt yet been exclud«^
cd fcom the gardens of princes and great lords.

The works of the great mafters in Statuary and
Paintlngi it is to be obferved, never produce
their effe^l by deception. They never are, and
it never is intended that they ftiould be miftaken
for the real objtedls which they reprefent. Paint-
ed Statuary may fometimes deceive an inattentivo
eye: proper Statuary never does. The little
pieces of p^rfpeftive in Painting, which it is in-
tended ihould pldafe by deception, reprefent aU
ways feme very iiipple, as well as infignificant
objedl; a roll of paper, for example, orthe.fteps
of a ftaircafe^ in the dark corner of fome paf-
fage or gaHery. They are generally the works too
of fome*v«ry inferior artifts, After being feea
once, aDpd producing the little furprife which it
is meant, they excite, together with the mirth
which commonly accompanies it, they never

,pleafc

^ Q3S THB IlfiTAT^V? ^TS^

tirffeme. ...

Thie p^ap^r ple^fur? wljicfe we dmye from
t^fe t.wo i#ij|taj^ive m^t (oi iar froi9 bei^g tbe ef-
i4d of (J^eptio^, is s^tqgetb^ iQcompatible with
it* That pte^furc h fipuaded siltogetkier upon oui
wonder at feei^g au obj^A of Q^^ kiad reprefent
fp: weU an. obj^. of * veryi diflfereat kind, and
vpon'our admiratipfl of the art which forniounts io
Iwippily th%t dHp^my which Nature had eftablift.
cd between thcnii- The nobkr works of Sutuary
and Painting appear to us a fort of wonderful
phgenojwen*, differing in thia refpeft from the
wonderful phaenomena of Nature, that they
f arry, as it were, their own expUwi^n alocg
with theoj, and d^monftrat?, even to. the eye,
♦he. way aqd nwnner in which they are produced.
The^yc?, ev^n of a^ nnikilful fpe^ator, immedi-
^tdy difcerps, in f&v^ meafure, how it ia that a
cen^n modificatiqn Qf figure 14 Statuary^ and of
\>righter and darkey cqjours in Painting, can re-
prcfont, with fo nmQh truth and vivacity, tbeac
tions, pa^icin^ and behaviour of men, as well
aa a great variety of other obje&s. The pleaiing
wonder of ignorance i$ accompanied with the ftill
more pleafmg fatisfa^ion of fcience. We wonder
and are amazed at the tffp&, ; and we are pleafed
ourfelves, and happy to find that we can com*
prehend, in fome meafure, how that wonderful
cfied is produced.

A good

OS THE IMITAXIVi: ARTg. 199

A good lookiog-^af!^ teprefents the obje£ls
ivhich are fct before it with much more truth and
vivacity thau either Statuary or Painting. [But,
ihough the fcience of optics may explain to the
underftandihg, the looking-glafs itfelf does not at
all denionftrate to the eye ho\v this effefl is
brought about. It may excite the wondei: of ig-
norance ; and in a clown, who had never beheld
a lookiug-glafs before, I have feen that wonder
rife almofi to rapture and extafyj but it cannot
give the fiuisfaftion of fcience. In all looking-
glalTes the e£[e5ls af e produced by the fame means,
applied exaftly in the fame manner. In every
different ftatueand piflure the effeds are produc-
ed; though by fimilar, yetnotbythefamemean$j
and thofe means too are applied in a different
manner in c^ch. Every good ftatue and pifture is
a freih wonder, which at the fame time carries,
in fome meafure, its own explication along with
it. After a little ufe and experience, all looking-
glaffes ceafe to be wonders altogether ; and even
the ignorant become fo familiar with them, as not
to think that their effefts require any explication',
A looking-glafs, befides, can reprefent only pre-
fent objedis ; and, when the wonder is once fair-
ly over, we choofe, in aU cafes, rather to con-
template the fubftance than to gaze at the fhadow.
One's own face becomes then the moft agreeable
objeft which a looking-glafs can reprefent to us,
and the only objeft which we do not foon grow
weary with looking at ; it is the only prefent ob-
]€£l of which we can fee only the Ih^dow : whe-
ther

aoo OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS,

ther handfome or ugly, whether old or young,
it is the face of a friend always, of which the
features correfpond e?a6lly with whatcTcr fenti-
inent, emotion, or paffiou we maj^ happen at that
inoment to feci.

In Statuary, the means by which the wonder-
ful effefl is brought about appear more fimple
^nd obvious than in Painting ; where the difpa-
rity between the imitating and the imitated ob-
jtSt being muqh greater, the ai^t which can con-
quer that greater difparity appears evidently, and
jilmoft to the eye, to be founded upon a much
deeper fcience, or upon principles much more
abftrufe and profound. Even in the meaneft
fubje6^5 we can often trace with pleafure the in-
genious means by which Painting furmounts this
difparity. But we cannot do this in Statuary,
becaufe the difparity npt being fo great, the
means do not appear lb ingenious. And it is
upon this account, that in Painting we are oftcQ
delighted with the reprefentation of many things,
which in Statuary would appear infipid, tireforac,
9nd not worth the looking at.

It ought to be obferved, however, that though
in Statuary the art of imitation appears, in ma-
ny refpefta, inferior to what it is in Painting, \
yet, in a room ornamented with both ftatues and
pidlures of qearly equal merit we fhall generally
find that the ftatues draw off our eye from the
pidlurcs. There is generally but one, or little

more

Of THE IMITATIVE ARTS. io*

morfe than one, point of view from which a
pidure can be feen with advantage, and it al-
ways prefents to the eye precifely the fame ob-
jed. There] nre many diflFerent points of view
from which a ftatue may be feen with equal ad-
vantage, and from each it prefents a diiBferent
objeft. There is more variety in the pleafure
which, we receive from a good ftatue, than in
that which we receive from a good pidlure ; and
one ftatac may frequently be the fubjeft of many
good pidlures or xirawings, all different from one
another. The Ihadowy relief and projedling o^
a pi&ure, befides, is much flattened, and feems
alraoft to vanifli away altogether, when brought
into comparifon with* the real and folid body
which ftands by it. How nearly foever thefe
two arts may feem to be a-kin, they accord fo
very ill with one another, that their different
produftions ought, perhaps, fcarce ever to be
feen together.

PART iL

AFT^R the pleafures which arife from th6
gratification of the bodily appetites, there feen\
to be none more natural to man than Mufic and
Dancing. In the progrefs of art aYid improve-/
meat they are, perhaps, the firfl and earlieft

pleafures

ioi ifflP tHE imtATiyE ARI*^-

|ilcfifures df^his own invention; -fbrtbdrc whicli
aYiie from the gratification bf the bodfly appc-
tites Cannot be faid to be oF his own invention.
Ko nation lias ^ yet been difcoverefl fo uncivilized
as to be altogether withotit than. Itfeems eveu
to be atnbngft the mod barbarous natioBs tbit
the life and praClice of thecti h botH ^moft fre-
quent and TOoft univerfal, as among the negroes
bf Africa and the favage tribes of America. In
civilized nations, the inferior ranks of people
have veiry little leifare, and the fnperior ranks
have many other amuffemelits ; neither the one
nor the other, therefore, can fpend much of
their time in Mafic and Dancing. Among fa-
vage nations, the great body of the people have
frequently great intervals oif leifure, and they have
fcarce any other amufemcnt; they naturally,
therefore, fpend a great part of their time in al-
moft the only one the^ have.

What the ancients called Rhythmus,' HvhAt we
call Time or Meafure, is the conneding princi-
ple of thofe two arts; Mufic confifling in a fuc-
ceflion of a certain fort of founds, and Dancing
in a fucceflion of a certain fort of fleps, gef-
tures, and motions, regulated according to time
or meafore, and thereby formed into a fort t)f
whole or.fyftem ; which in the one art is called
a fong or tune, and in the other a dance ; the
time or meafure of the dance corre(ponding al-
ways

tV THfe IMITAtlVE ARtS. loj

ways cxaftly with t?hat of the fong or tifne whicli
accompanies and dirc£is it*.

The htiman voice, ias it is always the beft, fo
it would naturally be thfe firft and earlieft of alt
mufical inftruments : in finging, or in the firft
attditipts towards finging, it would naturally em-
ploy founds as fimilar as poffible to thofe which
it had been accuftomed to ; that is, it would em-
ploy words of fome kind or other, pronouncing
them only in time and meafure, and generally
with a more melodious tone than had been ufiial
in common converfation. I'hofe words, howe-
ver, might not, and probably would not, for a^
long time have any meaning, but might refem-
ble the fyllables which we make ufe of in Jol-fa"
ingy or the derry-down-down of our comtno'n bal-
lads ; and ferve only to affift the voice in form-
ing founds proper to be modulated into melody,
and to be lengthened or ftiortened accordin.g to
the time and meafure of the tune. This rude
form of vocal Mufic, as it is by far the moft
Sirfple and obvious, fo it naturally would be the
iirft and earlieft.

In the fueceffion of ages it could not fail to
occur, that in the rooni of thofe unmeaning or
touficar words, if I may call them fo, might bte
fubftitut€ld words which expref&d fome fenfe c5r

meaning,

* t" he Author's Obfcryatlons on the Affinity between Mu-
fic, 'Dancilig, and Poetry, are annexed to the end of Part III.
of this Effaj.

204 OF THE IlAlTATIVE ARTS.

meaning, and of which the pronunciation might
coincide as exadlly with the time and meafure of
the tune, as that of the mufical words had done
before* Hence the ori^ of Verfe or t*octry»
The Verfe would for a long time be rude ^nd im-
perfefl. When the meaning words fell fliort of
the meafure requiredj they would frequently be
eked out with the unmeaning ones, as i^ feme-
times done in our common ballads. When the
public ear came to be fo refined as to reje6^, in
jail ferious Poetry^ the unmeaning word^ altoge-
ther, there would flill be a liberty affumed of
altering and corrupting, upon many occalions,
the pronunciation of the meaning ones, for the
fake of accommodating them to the meafure.
The fyllables which compofed them would, for
this purpofe, fometimes be improperly length-
ened, and fometimes improperly fhortened; and
though no unmeaning words were made ufc of,
yet an unmeaning fyllable would fometimes be
ftuck to the beginning, to the end, or into the
middle of a word* All thefe expedients we
find frequently employed in the verfes even of
Chaucer, the father of the Englifti Poetry. Ma-
ny ages might pafs away before verfe was com-
monly compofed with fuch correftnefs^ that the
ufual and proper pronunciation of the words
alone, and without any other artifice, fubjcflcd
the voice to the obfcrvation of a time and mea-
fure, of the fame kind M'ith the time and mw*
fure of Mufic,

The

OT THE IlittTATIVE AlTS. 105^

The Verfe would naturally cxprefs feme fenle
which Tuited tlie grave or gay, the joyous or
melancholy humour of the tune which it was
fuDg to $ being as it were blended and united
with that tund> it' would feem to give fenfe^ and -^
meaning vo whdt otherwife might not appear to
have aiiy, or at kaft any which could be clearly
aqd diftin^y underftood, without the accompa-
Himeac of fuch aii eitplicatioii.

A ^aAtdh)iite dattce tnhy frequently anfwef
the^ fame putpofe, ind, by reprefenting fome
adventure in love or war, may feem to give
fenle and* naenning to a Mufic whith might not
otherwife appear to have any^ It is more natu--
ral to mimic, by geftures and motions, the ad->
ventures t>f eon^mdn lif<i, than t6 ^x^refs them
in Verfe or Pdetry^ The thought itfelf is more
obvious, and the ezi^cution is much more eafy*
If this mimicry Was accompanied by mufic, it*
would of its own accOrd, and almofl: without
any intemioii of doing fo, afccommodate, in fome
meafure, its different fteps and movements to-
the time and meafure of the tune; efpecially if-
the fame peHbn both fung the tune and per-
fMrned the mlmicty; as is faid to be frequently'
the cafe among- the favage nations of Africa
and America* Pantomime Dancing nlight in
this m^net ferve to give a diftindTenfe and
meaning to Mufic many ages before the in-
vention^ or at leaft before the common ufe of
Poetry. We hear little, accordingly, of the

P Poetry

f^ <ff TUB IMrt ATIVE ARTB.

P^t|>7 of the &vdge nations of Afinct and
^m^m^ but a |roat deal of tlitif fkutoimin^i
4Wice9;

{^<9try« h^wisvon is dipabte iif fexpreffing
iom; thinga fully and diftm&ly^, which Danc-
i)j|g ^ithei? cannot reprefent at all> or can r^
pfef^pi teit oh&UMlf aAd impeifodUy ; 6ith as
the reafonings and judgin^nta . of the Qader*^
(landings ; the ideas> fancies, and fufpicions of
t^^ imagiBeatioib ; th« l#ntiaiems, eait^iKiBai tod
TffiS^ns of tkt heart. In the power of eipref-
fiag ^ w^^mi»g with cVoaFoefa aad diftin^koo^
Bl«jiGin^ it i^rvMr tp Mufic^ m4 PMtrjr ta

Baocingf

Qf %i^ il«e^ Sifter Artf, which ^r\ffiw\iys
B^I^IWi ^^t always togetht^> and which at
jtJU 9nifa go Irequeittly tog^thr^^ there are
t5ro iiphich qao^ ^bfid aicmet and lepiaraiie frorei
^Mij; 9^ti|r4: cpifipanioios, 4nd one which can*
igyK. I^ d^ diiJ^^ Qbrervacia& of what the
i^nnta ca)k4 Hh^hwie^i o£ what wet caU Timft
i^d. llfeaittW, confiifta tjh^ eQeiK^e both of Dane-
log and,<?!f ?0€itry. pr V#rfe j ^r tbe charadeiif*
H^al.qiwlity which dlftingiiifh^s the foaniet from^
41 ot)ie^inotioA.4|ida£^W)aiy and the latter &om
ayyii other di&Q)^fe« J^t, eomemAng the pro-
jlon^iofl betw^fEltt ^c^e iotei^aU an4 ^inSoxis^^^
dRratiQ9 wjl»li&l^ cgnititKvte wHab v$ Mlltti: ti^o
4^ ines^iw^i the w,. it w<»ujd feem, eaaju^g^
lejfih QiUQJl) iRflxe^ fl^ci&oiii thtei the. fijc ; aad

Poetry

<fF THE IMTTATIVB AHTft icf

Poetry, in the ferae manner as Mtiflc, addrefles
hfcif to the ear, whereas Dancinfe addrefies iU
kK ta the r^e. Zn Dtntin^, the rhythmus^
the prosper proponioo, thfe tioie itod m^fnre
of its motions, cannot diftinfiily be perceivcdi
unlefs thejr are marked by the more diftin^
thtte and meafote dP Mufie. It is otherwife in
Poeitf ; no abcompaniment is neceflkry to miik
the medfare of good Verfe. Mdfic and Poe-
try, therefore, can feach of themfabfift alone;
Dancing always itquh^ the accothpwiment of

It is Inftrunremal Mufic which can beft furbfift
apart, aiad ftp^nrate RcfA bdth Poietry and Danc-
ing. Vobai Mafic, tir6tigh"it may, and fre-
quently dbesi coniift 6f notes which Inlve no
diftinA fenfe or mbanttq^^ yet nituriliy calls for
thte foppKyrt of Poietry, Btrt " Mnfic^ nncrricd
to imMonal Verie,^' ti i/Liltoh fays, or even to
wordtt of any kind Whith h^t^i i diftind^ fenfe or
me^nitif , is A^trelfarily aVid eilbntiallly imitariVe*
WhatfeVAr he tht m^eaning dl thofe wordi,
tl^ough, like M^dy of thb fongs 6f ancient
Grc6c4, a* well a* fome of thofe of more mo-
dern tiinei, thfey may eafprefs merely fo'me max-
hn^ 6f pruildnce ind teojrality, of may contain
it^eXy thd fiihpltf narrAtiye of ftithe important
trirxu y£t eVen in foch didadic «nd hiftorical
fOQgs thiti will ftitl be hnttation $ there will ftill
be t thing of one kind, which hf art is maiie
t5 refembte a thin|; of a rery different kind;
P z there

«ot Of THE IMITATIVE ARTS*

there will ftill be Mufic imiuting difcourfe^
there will fttll be rhythums and melody, ihaped
and faihioned into the form either of a good
moral counfel^ or of an amufing and intertftiag
ftotyi

In this firft fpicies of imitation, which being
efiential tdi is therefore infeparable from, all
fuch Vocal Mafic, there nu^, and there com*
monly is, added a fecond. The words may,
and commonly do, exprefs the fituation of fome
particular peffon, and all the fentimeots and
paifions ifi^hich hd ifeels from that fittiation. It
is a jdyoiis coAipanioil Who gives vent to the
gaiety and mirth with tvhich wine, feftivtty, and
good company inffrire him. It is a lover who
complains, or hopes, or fears, or defpairs^ It
is a generous man who e3epre0es either bis gra-
titude for the favours, or his indignation at the
injuries, which may have been done to him.
It is a warrior who prepares bimfelf to confroat
danger, and who provokes or defies his enemy-
It is a perfon in profperity who hmnbly returas
thanks for the goodnefsy or one in affli&ion who
with contrition implores the mercy and forgivt-
nefs, of that invifible Power to whom be looks
up as the DireSor of all the events of human
life. ;;'pie fituation may comprehend not only
one, but two, three, or more perfons} it may
excite in them all either fimilar or oppofite fenti-
ments ; what is a fubje6l of forrow to one, being
an occafion of joy and triumph to another; and

diey

OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS. S09

tlxejr may all exprefs, fometimcs feparately and
fometimes together, the particular way in which
each of them is affe^ed, as ia a duo, trio, or
a chorus.

All this it may, and it frequently has been
Add is unnatural ; nothing being more fo, than
to fing when we are anxioas to perfuade, or in
earneft to exprefs any very ferious purpofe. But
it fhould be remembered, that to make a thing
of one kind refemble another thing of a very
different kind, is the very oircumftance which,
in all the Imitative Arts, conftitutes the merits
of imitation ; and that to fhape, and as it were
to bend, the meafure and the melody of Mufic>
fo as to imitatp the tone and the language of
counfel and converfation, the accent and the
ftyle of emotion and paffion, is to make a thing
of one kind refemble another thin^ of a very
different kind,

The tone and the movements of Mufic, tho'
naturally very different from thofe of converfa-
tion and paffion, may, however, be fo managed
as to feem to refemble them* On account of the
great difparity between the imitating and the
imitated obje^, the mind in this, as in the other
cafes, cannot only be contented, but delighted,
and even charmed and tranfported, with fuch
an imperfeA refemblance as can be had. Such
imitative Mufic, therefore, when lung to words
which explain and determine its meaning, may

frequently

2I.Q Of. Tfm II^A^ETVF A9^^

tioa. It i^ upon this, accounjt, thsfi $vi^ tbe
iftpomplete Mufic of a recitative fcems Vf ex-
prefs fometimes all the fedatenefs and i^qi-
pofure of ferious but calm difcourfe, and
fQjcnetime^ all the exqu^^ fipniibiUty of the
moft iQtereft^lg ps(|[io.n. The more coi9plete
l^ijic q£ an air is flill fupedor, sfndi, iq th/p
imitation of thf. more aiuj|pated p^gfls, ha^
011^ great ^^v^tagf <^ver every fost o| dif-
courfe, whether Pxpfis or Poptry, yiH^ik w
not fung to Muiic« In a perfoi^ whq bk ei-
ther iniuc:h deprelled by grief or enlive&eiJ by
joy, who, i^ ftropgly affe^a^d cithei; wkt\ Ipve
or hatred^ with gratui^ qx^ relcntiiient^ vith
^djmiration or coatempt, there is ^pj^mfifiisi
o^e thought (^ idea yirh^cl^ 4w^li§ ^PP)? ^
i^nd, which contiau4,lly haunt$ Ifisfx, whichs
when he has otj^ced iv away, imn^di^^ it-
ttirns upon him, and which in cqmps^y v^t^
him abfent and inattentive. He cajn think but
of one object a^d hf^ Q^ginp^ repeat to them
that objed ip frequently as it r^ura VP9n ^fxu^
He takes r^fu^ in ilpliiJ^de, where he caa
with fceedpm either ind.¥lg(9 tl^n^. ext^y gr give
way to the agony of the agreeajb)^ ok 4ii^
gr^eable pafiipn which agitates him f ^<i wiiere
he can repeat tp himfelf, w^ich he. do^a fo??^
times mentally, a^nd fometimes even aloud^ 9pd
^moft always in th^ fanie words, the paiticu-
Ur thought which eithfp: delights or diflcefles
luf^. Neither Prole nor Pqe^ry cai^ v^ntfireto

imitate

Imkate tbfifp atooft endle& rdpmitRms of paffiost

T^y may defcribe them aa | d# qow> but thcjf

date iftot ifbnatfelheBi ; tkfiy woitld-bpcoipe mo^

iafufierably tii^eTQlpe if they 4k}| Tjb? Mufic of

a p^oiuitffjiiK lidvcfply caay, but frequently docs,

imitate tfaei^.l aad h i]ieT<r maies iu way fo di*f

}cc£Uy atio Irr^gftibly to the b^n as when it doea

jbt. |t is^if{y>ft t)m kqtoxmi that tbe words of aa

air^ ^jieciall)^ cf , a paflloiu^ CHpfe, theugJi the]i

lurc SffbdQtfi yefy long, y^t ase- fc^jDe e^er faag

ftraigl|t oaJUa thp (tnd,. like th^e i^ » reciutive ;

bM ar^ abaof^ a^t^#y9 l^pkea into ppr ta, whiab

ktt trafif|to&d alid, rdp4^|il04 agaiii apd aigai^ ao*

fiordki^ M tbe £|ooy or jjtidgfti^ti^ of the ({fihoipofi

tr. It i»by iDee99ef fucdiMpetitionft wMy^ thai

Mufic can pxcn thofe i^rc^iM powcirs 0f\mitf^f

tioo wkieh difiiogiiifli ;t^ ilfid ia wblp^it ^iccela

all tit? other i(piiiatiye An», Foeti^ fuad £lo«

que&co^ k lufi atcof diogly \^6ea d&fb obfervpdi

produce thpir effc& alwi^tf by a ^oniie^if^d varieqf

and fucceflioii of ^ffevcpi tboughte^ aod ideas ;

but Mu^e ixteq^entiy preduOaa ka ^^EeAa by ^ jt*

petition oftdiitfaio^ idfa; asid tbefamp fepfip elc*

piieflisd' in the fi^n^,. dr nearly t^ faaie> ccfBal^

nation of foaadii though at firft' perhaps it' paf

aiake fcaive ^tiy iffiprefiifrti «peA uai yf t, by beioff

repeated agsdb atid' again, it coifies fit lafi gr(idilb

ftUy, and by littld aiid Yipihfi. to ihov^ tp agkcM^

and to ttanfpoDt U6,

To thefe po^ivfein of imitaiiogv Mufic naftArall)^
or rather a«D8ip[^]^ joina tl^e ham^ft- tfhoieeia

^i» OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS.

the objeds of ks unkation. The fentimeols and
paffions vfiAch Mu^c can beft imitate ^re thofe
whkh unite 'and bind men together in feciety;
the facial, the decent, the virtnous,, the inte-
refting and affeding, the amiable and agreeable^
the awful and refpe6lable, the noble, elevating,
and commanding paifion^. Crief and diftreflase
interefiing and afie^ing ; humanity and compaf-*
fion, joy and adnriration, are amiable and agree*
able ; devotion is awful and refp<&abk ; the ge«
iierous contempt of danger, the bottourablc in*
dignation at injuftice, are noble, elevating, aad
commanding. But it k thefe and fuch Hke pafli-
ons which Mufic is fitteft for imitatisg, and which
it in h6t moft frequently imnates. They are,* if
I may fay fo, all Mufical Pafiions } their natural
tones are all clear, <tiftind, and aloioft xnelodi*
0us; and they naturally exprels themfelvesina
lasgoage which is diftinguifiied by paufes at regu-
br, and almofi equal, intervals; and which, up*
t)n that account, can mere eafily be adapted to
the regular returns of the correfpoodent periods
of a tune. The paffi<ms, on the contrary, which
dtive men from one another, the unfocial, the
bateful, the indecent, the vicious paffions, can*
"net eafity be imitated by Mqfic. The voice of
furious anger, for example, is harfh and diifeo^
dant ; its periods are all irregular, fometimes ve-
ry long and fometimes very Ihort, and diflin-
guiihed by no regular paufes. The obfcure and «
almoft inarticulate grumUings of black malice and
envy, the fcreaming outcciea of dafiardly f<s<''' I
- % the

OP THE IMITATIVE ARTS. §13

tbe hidefOiis growKngs of brutal and implacable
revenge, are all equally difcordant. It is with
difficulty that Mufic can imitate any of thofe paf-^
£ons, and the Mufic which does imitate them ia
not the moft agreeable. A whole entertainraent
may c<Mifift, without any impropriety, of the
imitation of the focial and amiable pafiions. It
Vould be a ftrange entertainment which confifled
altogether in the imitation of the odious and vki-
ous. A iingle fong exprefies almoft always fome
ibciaU agreeable, or inierefting paffion. In an
opera the unibcial and difagreeable are fometimea
introduced, but it is 7if^ely, and as difcords are
introduced into harmony, to fet off by their con-
trail the fuperipr beauty of the oppofite paffiona^
What Plato faid of Virtue, that it was of all beau- ,
ties the brighteft, may with fome fort of truth be
faid of the proper and natural objefis of mufical
imitation* They are either the fentiments and
pafiions, in the exercife of which confift both
the glory and the happinefe of human Kfb, or they
are thoife from which it derives its moft delicious
pleafures, and moft enlivening joys ; or, at the
worft and the loweft, they are thofi^ by which it
calls upon our indulgence and compaflxonate afli&
tanc^ to its unavoidable weaknefle^, its diftrefles^
and its misfortunes.

To the merit of its imitation and to that of its
happy choice in the obje£ls which it imitates, the
great merits of Statuary and Painting, Mufic
joins another peculiar and ezquifite merit of its

own.

pwn* Sutuary and Pamti&g caoaot be £ud M
fddauy jpL^w beaimos qf their awn to tl^ beamks
of NatuTf which they imitate; they qiay ifiemr
^ea great xLUQib^r of thqfe heamice, and grctup
them in a mor^ agreeable OMUwer than thej^ are
fiqoiiBQnly, pr perhaps evec^ to be found in Bat
tore. It i^ay periup^ bf trtHr» what the anifls
fre fp fond pf telling u«^ that no wpbmh eve?
equalled, in all the pana^Cherbpdy, tl^b^vity
fif (be yenw of Medici^r 9or any mvn thaft of the
Apollo of Belvidere. "^ they mnib allQw» fUKfly,
^h«t thece i^ na paftienlaiir bp^y in any part oi
IbiSlJtnre of thofe two £un«UB' fiacues,, wiiieh iflpoc
^1 Idi^ftequalled^ if not much pxceUefi^ by what
;a tobe foond in inapy liypg febj^^ But Ife*
&Ci^ by arcangingi ^ud aa it wer^ ; b^ndi^g to i(<
pwntiime aind nies^ure^ whatever ^ntii^enis and
paifion^ it eypreiTefi) not pnly aflinnU^s iksd
fr^jup^ aa well aa. Statuary and faivtiog^ ^^
dlifiereot beautiea of Naause whkji k initat&Si
but it plothpa theqi, befidfa^ with at naw and an
exqjoifitebeaniy of i(M>wn ;, it plothea ijb(BEi ivith
saelody and hannoayoi whieh^ lijce a trae^Mcent
9»aDt)^» far %un eweeating; apry beauty^. Hfr^
<ml$^t4>:8^ve abrig)it]9i} c^oWi^ a siOK^enltneBii^
luftpe^ aodanKU«p9pgii^g|Wietoe;in(]iybea^
Xy which they infold.

To thefe two fojrta of iotitatiMi^rtrtoitbat gene*
m) one> l^ whiQfa> Mjufiie le madb to vefemble di£-
pourfe, and^tpthat paiaietihr oae^ by wbitkitis
wadie tQiesq^c^^, fontiaieiifeA aodr fiBotingi ««ci^

' which

yg^f^ 9 pamcuiaf: fnu^tion wfpirc^ 9 panicuUr

pcrfoipi,T-rtl»rf i$ f^^q^qit^y jqined a third. Tbft
pfrfoQ w^ai}0g9m;i}f JQia tQ this d;Q^!?le ^nji^^iioi]^
of iljc ijinger tlje ?i,d4ilti9Wl wit^i<» Q? the aftox ;
^fl exjirefs, n^t oply by tijp ^nodtfjatig^ij^ apd w-
d^nqe of Ws vpic^, ^\il by |lw cwnt?majicf> bjR
bi3 attitude;?! by }fk jeftures, and by his pioti-
o]^, th^ feQtiq[|^nt;9 ajQjdl feelui^a 0^ \\j^^ jpi^rfoiv
Tvbpfe fiitii^tiQ^ i« paJLW*d in tbc. fosif . Evea iu^
priyg^e oowypjiay, th^gh ^Ibog pwy fonietiow^l
perhaipa be ^ ip. b?; wc]* fang, it oa^n tiexex b«
faid tp h?. wU it^fffim^d,, u»lefil thp l^gcr docj^
fomethipg of tbia kv;id ; af^l there iii uo capxfi^n^^
fpn betw€?e^ tbe efp^ pf what i$ %ig wldjy firom
amniic-bpal^ ^ t^ ei^d o£ a harpiiphord, ^ixyi of
vrbf^t 1$. not pslg^ (o^g^ b\i;^a^d with proper free-
dpm» animaidpn, W b(ddnief«i An. opera a£bor
does no mp^ tbgn (his ; apd an irnitatipA which
is fp pleal^g^ ao)d which, appear^ even fp iiatu^aU
in p4vatA ^iety^ pnght n^ot to appear fpr^edi^
ijlin^ur^U w, dUa^cee^VJQ viffni^ the Aage.

Iiaagopd ^pejra. sidoji^ qp| only the tnodula-
tians andpanfes pf his voice, \m every motion
^d gel|^r^ every vAriat^OA^ eithe];,ija the air of
his bead, or in the attitude pf hi^ body, corre-^
fpond to the. time apd meafair^, p£ the; Mnfic :
they correfpoAd to the expreflioa of the feati-i
ment or paffion which the Mufic imitates, and
that e^cprdfion i^ceir^rily correfponds to, diia
time and me^ifare. Mu£c ia as it were the foul;
whif^fa aniDt9tc&^ biQ^, whi^h informs every feai-

ture

7i6 OF THE IMITATIVE AUTS.

ture of his countena^cc, and even direAs every
movement of his eyes. Like the mufical ex-
prefiion of a fong, his a£lion adds to the natural
grace of the fentiment or adion which it imi-
tates, a new and peculiar grace of its own ; the
exquifite and engaging grace of thofe geflures
and mbtions, of thofe airs and attitudes which
zTp direded by the movement, by the time and
meafure of Mufic; this grace heightens and en-
livens that ^xpreflion. Nothing can be more
deeply affcf^ing than the interefting fcenes of the
ferious opera, when to good "Poetry and good
Mufic, to the Poetry of Metaftafio and the Mu-
£c of Pergolcfi> is added the execution of a
good adlor. In the ferious opera, indeed, the
a6lion is too often facrificed to the Mufic ; the
caftrati, who perform the principal parts, being
always the mod infipid and miferable aAors.
The fprightly airs of the comic opera are, in the
fame manner, }n the higheft degree enliveabg
and diverting, Though they do not make us
laugh fo loud as we fometimes do at the fcenes
of the common comedy, they make us fmile
more frequently ; and the agreeable gaiety, the
temperate joy, if I may call it fo, with which
they infpire u«,^4l P^^ ^^^J *° elegant, but a
moft delicious pleafurc. The deep diftrefs and
the great paffions of tragedy are capable of pro-
ducing fome effed, though it fhould be but in-
differently a£ted. It is not fo with the lighter
misfortunes and lefs affe£ling fituatipns of come-
dy : unlefs it is at leaft tolerably aded, it is al-
together

OF THl IMITATIVE AkTS; ir?

together infupportable. But the cafirati are
Tcarce ever tolenable a&ors ; they are according-
ly feldom adinittied to play in the comic opera;
which) being upon that account commonly bet-
ter performed, the ferious appears to many peo«
pie the better entertaininent of the two*

The imitative powers of Inftrumental are much
inferior to thofe of Vocal Mufic; its melodious
but unmeaning and inarticulated founds cannot^
like the articulations of the human voice, relate
diftin&ly the circumftances of any particular
ftory, or defcribe the different fituaiions which
ihofe circumftances produced; or even ezprefs
clearly, and fo as to be underftood by every
hearer, the various ientiments and paflions which
the parties concerned felt from thefe fituaiions :
even its imitation of other founds, the objeds
which it can certainly beft imitate, is common-
ly fo indiflind, that alone, and without any ex-
plication, it might not readily fuggeft to us what
Was the imitated object. The rocking of a cra-
dle is fuppofed to be imitated in that concerto
of Corelli, which is faid to have been compof-
ed for the Nativity: but, unlefs we were told
beforehand, it might not readily occur to us
what it meant to imitate, or whether it meant
to imitate any thing at. all; and this imitation
(which, though perhaps as fuccefsful as any
other, is by no means the diftinguifhed beauty
of that admired compofition) might only ap-
pear to us a fingular and odd paftage in Mufic.

The

SI 8 OF TlIB lUrrATlTB ARTS<

The irmg^ df bells and tUs &iip6^ oFtkt laric
uuf nigfacliigade atic iniitatiKl m f te fysiphony of
Ittfinsmentii Mtific whicb Mh Hantid has cbm-
fioitd for the Allegro and Penferofo of Milton :
thtfe are not dnljr founds but mufical founds^
and may therefore be {jijfftikd to be inbre whh-
in the compafs of the power$ of miifical imita-
tion; It is aebordiagbf nmTer&Hy acknowledg-
ed, tfait in thefe imitattioni^ this grdat mafter has
b^^n remarkably fuccefsful ; and yet, uniefs the
Tei'fes of Mikon explained the meaning of the
Mufic, it nmht not e^nen in this cafi^ readil)r oc-
cur to us wLat it meant to imitate, or whether
it meant to imitate any thing at alL With the
explication of the Words, indeed, the imitatioa
appears, what it cert»nly is, a very £ne one ;
but Without that explicatioik it might perhaps ap-
pear only a fingular paiSage, which had lefs con-
nexion either with what Went before or with
what came after it, than a&y other in the Mafic.

inftmmemal Mufie is faid fometimes to imi-
Ute motion ; but in reality it only either imitates
the particular founds which accompany certain
inotioDS, or it produces founds of which the
time atid meafurc bear fome correfpondence to
the variations, to the paufes and interruption^,
to the fucceffive accekrations and retardations of
the motion which it means to imitate : it is in
this Way that it fometimes attempts to ezprds the
march and array of an army, the confufion snd
hurry of a battle, &c. In all thefe cafe^, how-
ever,

Ot THE IMITATIVE ARTS* ai$

eVe^, Us ioiitatkm is fo very indiftind^ that vfitk^
but the acbompaaimtot of fome other art^ to ex-
plain and interpret its meaning, it would be al-
moft always uaintelfigible ; and we could fearce
ever know with certainty> either what it meant
to inoiuitq^ ar whether it meant to imitate anjT
thing At all.

In the imitltivd arts, though it is by no means
necefiary that the imitating (hould fo exactly re-
femkle the ioiitated objed, that the one fhould
fometimes be miftaken for the other, it is, how-
ever, neceflary that they fhould refemble at leaft.
fo hty that the one fhould always readily fuggeft
1^ other. It would be a ftrange pidure which
te^ired an infcription at the foot to tell us, not
only what particular perfon it meant to repre-
fern, bilt wbethei? it meant to reprefent a man
or a horfe, or whether it meant to be a pic^
ture at all, and to reprefent any thing. The
imitations of inftrimiental Mufic may, in fome
xef^efls, be £ud to f efembk fucb pi&ures. There
i^ however, this very ef&ntial difference be-
tween them^ that the pidure would not be much
mended) by the infcription; whereas, by what
may be coniider^d as very Httle more than fuch
an infcription, inflrumental Mufic^ though it
cannot always even then, perhaps^ be faid pro-
perly to imitate, may, however, produce all the
effe&s of the fineft and moft per&A imitation*
la order to explain in what manner this is brought

about.

220 6F TKfe IMITATIVE ARfSL

about, it will not be neceflary to defcend imd
aay great depth of philofophical fpeculatioo.

That train of thoughts and idea^ which is con-
tinually palling through the mind does not al^
ways move on with the fame pace, if I may fay
fo, or with the fame order and eonnedion.
When we are gay and cheerful, its motion is
brilkcr and more lively, our thoughts fuccticd
one another more rapidly, and thofe which im-
mediately follow one another feem frequently
either to have but little connexion, or to be
conne6led rather by their oppofition than by
their mutual refemblance. As in this wanton
and playful difpofition of mind we hate to dwell
long upon the fame thoughti fo we do not much
care to purfue refembling thdughts ; 4nd the va-
riety of contraft is more agreeable to us than the
famenefs of refemblance/ It i^ quite othcrwife
when we are melancholy and defponding; we
then frequently find ourfelves haunted, as it
were, by fome thought which we would gladly
ichafe away, but which conflantly purfues usi
and which admits no followers, attendants, or
companions, but fuch as are of its own kindred
and complexion. A flow fucceffion of refem-
bling or clofely conneAed thoughts is the cha*
rafleriflic of tins difpofition of mind ; a quick
fucceffion of thoughts, frequently contrafled and
in general very fligbtly connected, is the charac-
teriftic of the other. What may be called the
natural flate of the mind, the Aate in which we

are

' OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS. aa*

are neither elated nor dejedted, the ftate of fe-
dateoefs, tranquillity, and comppfure, holds a
fort of middle place between thofc two oppofite
extremes^ our thoughts fucceed one another
more flowly, and with a more diilinA connec*
tioQ than in the one ; more quickly, and with a
greater variety, than in the other.

Acute founds are naturally gay, fprightly,
and - enlivening ; grave founds folemn, awfuU
and melancholy. There feems too to be fome
natural coi^neftion between acutenefs in tune
and quicknefs in time or fucceflion, as; well as
between gravity and flownefs : an acute found
fcems to fly off more quickly than a grave one :
the treble is more cheerful than the bafs; its,
notes likewife comnionly fucceed one ano^
ther more^ rapidly. But inflrumental Mu-
£c, by a proper arrangement, by a quicker or
flower fucceflion of acute and grave, of re-
fembling and contrafted founds, can not only
accommodate itfelf to the gay, the fedate, or
the melancholy mood; but if the mind is fo
far vacant as not to be difturbed by any dif-
ordcrly paflion, it can, at lead for the moment,
and to a certain degree, produce every pofli-
ble modification of each of thofe moods or dif-
pofitions. We all readily diftinguifh the cheer-
ful, the gay, and the fprightly Mufic, from
the melancholy, the plaintive, and the afiedt-
ing ; and both thefe from what holds a fort of
middle place between them, the fcdate, the tran-

^ quil.

M# «r TUt iMiTATlVte AKfi.

qoil, 9m4 the compofiag^ And we nretSi fen^
fit)lc tbat, IB Ae natural end ordinary ftate o^
tile i«i«id, Mafic can^ hj a fort c^ kicantatton,
feoth and charai us into fbme degree of that
}>ai«k«}ar iMod or dHpofitioa which accords
arkh ks ewn charaAcr and temper^ In a con**
tett df inftruraemat Mufii^ the attention is cn«
gaged, with pleafure and delight, to fiften xq
a eoteloHairioB of the moft agreeable and nielo*
dicNid fottiida, which fellow one another, fome*
liudea with a quicker, and fonietime^ with a
flower lucceflion ; and in which thde that im-
siediatetjr follow one another fometimes ezadly
or aeailf refeiable, and fometimes contrail with
one another 4n tunje, in time, and in otdc r of
arrangements The mind beiug thua fuceefl^Ttly
occupied by a train of objeAs, of whith the
nature, fucceffiou, ^nd cpn'ueAion correfpond;
femetimea to the gaj^ fometimes to the tran*
quil, and fometimes to the melancholy mood
or difpofition, it is itfdf fucceffively led into
each of thofe moods or difpofitions ; and is thus
brought into a fort of harmony or concord with
die Mnfie which fo agreeably engages its atten-
tion«

It is not, however, by imitation properly,
that inftrumemal Mufic produces this effed:
inftrumental Mufie does not imitate, as Tocal
Mufic, as Painting, or as Dancing would imi-
tate, a gay, a fedate, or a melancholy perfoa ;
h does not tell us, as any of thofe other xrti

1» f»t l)ltttA¥tVft AM% MH

ttontd ttiL trt, k pMilMt, a if<flrtotM» or aHMkft-

l^ahitktg, di*!]! ElldifiAj^, byfymlHithy withiilit
Satet](^» tlie r^diitetien^ of tli^ mtfltikeholy aad
liifbd^ tfl kmt otlicV )[^erfim^ tliat inftMnHEHorOi
Mafic fbothes ub iato^each of thefe difpofidoiis c
it hecptacs itfelf a gay, a Jedate, or a melan*
tkcAy dbjeSti tad the laimd iMltckMl^ shuttles
thti mood t>r dii|>d3tbh tdbicH -at l%e tkn^ ^Mr^
re(];H>iidk to tlie ot]jefft wktk ^BgAgii^ iu^ at^
te&tioii. Wfeat^vtr we feef fhmt iiiJft^ttdietRtt
Mulk is Ah tfti^imA, '«ad tfot a ffmpi^hdda
feeiing\ It h (Air xy#n! gaiety; ftdateftert^ w
melaacbdly ^ ]i<A tltt teflefi!ed difp^tkA of ana^
fbeif |)Ctfoii^

bppil^ fittiated and iivi^fi laid ottt gardte^ wtf
^ {^relented w$th a liicceffioii oi hn^fqifpt^,
wMck ire ^foxmthnes gay> fooMtunes gloomyv
«&d faci^etlnies ctlbr atui fi^rtHe; if thie ttittf
is ia hs natural ftatr, h iuits icfelf to the pb-
feists ^hieh facceffively prefettt tfaemfalire^ afect
rmi^i in fome degree its HKKxi a&d pfefent itu^
mour mth ev^ Variittiott of the fcttse. It
ttrotild be improper^ howtsrct, to ivf that tteftf
fcenes imitaced the g)ty« tke'eidtt^ or the ns
latfdioly tnpod of the miod ; tbey iM^ pvo^
^ttce iir their tttnt each of tlioie moods but
Atey cantidt imitate any of them. InfltMxAts^
tal Mafic^ in the fame maimer^ thotrgh it eanL
^dte all ibofe different' ^iipofidons, eaqaot
Q^ imitate

tH OfXf}^ imThTVm ARTS.

imUjiKf ^«y pf .tlMtti^ Tfecpe are no two
ixx fi&»Pt m^e ppr£c&\y difpa^te ^aa fouod
j^fidf ft^t^Qipiitj;. awi itjT^ impoffibj^ by any
t^mna^-ii^e]:,: to famioa thc:,<Mic .into .any
Ihmgriibilir^fl^rs j^ xeal T^feoibUnqc to the

<- xXilm p4tvfi;:p£ cai^tiug.aod vailing .tnc. dif-
fer^ t 0ood^ ^a^d jdifpofittoni :pf. ^thp niind>
ivbiQb;iQftffHtte,P^l.^^4?- r^^lly. po^efles.to a
tcTj^ cQBfid^r9jl^'€^gfe^«.fia8.^ pr^^^^^i'

palri(4v^oe*o£ U$ ^jpiatatioa ibr tbofe great
iioit^iyc jjgypier^.Mixich been afcribed to

krf:;g**Pai0tipg,V jfayj^ attjAatj^br, more capable
of feeling flrougly than of analifing accurately,
M. koufleau of Geneva^ " Painting, ^hich
': P4r(f<{9t^ .4^:inuta?ion8, fiat to the iinagioati^n,
*^J^ut<ui-4^ (!&nfca> and . tp only one 6f the
. V kpi^9 .aarepjcefent. nothing beiides the 6b*
*^ jefdlf of ii^U.- Mufic, ^.qne might imagine,
J. ibouldrbe. equally. q^nBocdaa thofe of hearing.
*^It Imkates, however, every thing, even thofc
? objefls ivh^cb arc perccivaWc by fight .only.
''.JBy a deiufio^ that feeQ>f ajimofl inconceivable,

Y it can,; :^8^ k werj, pm.tjhe^eyei into the car;

V mid the, g^ea^ wonder/ of aa art which aSs
'<^'. Qply. b]^. motion and fuccefl^on, { is» that it can
^'imitft^ reft, and repofe. Night, Sleeps Soli^
V,t]:ide^..aa4. Sjleoce are al| within the compafi
'^of mnfical imhadon. Though all Nature
'^ ibould be afleep, the perfoa who contem*
*'. plates it IB awak^} and the art of the mu-

*^ fician

Of ?rHE .IMITAWVS - ART«» U$

<^ fidan confiftt in fubftitutingi in the rooqii%tif
*^ an image of -whftt isnotrtfae-cd^joft of heuriiq;^
**ihat of the mo^emcnu whiclj'ii* prefeuc*
** would excite in the miod of thc'fpeAatoaf.^-iA
That is, of the efie^s whith it >w<nikl' produce
upon his fnood'^dd dtfpofition( /^^ The m^ficiaij
^ (cQiitinuef the fume Author) will fometinies,
** not only agitate the waves of the fea^^ blow up
^' the flames of a fonflagratioti, make the rain
***i^H^the ri^em flow and fwdll" the tQn?ems»
*' but he 'will paint the horrors of 41 hideous ^Cr
*' fan, darken the >al^ oif a fubtertatneous dan^
** geon, calm the ten^ft, rpftore ferenity aad
** tranquillity to the air and thefky^ irnd (bed
^ from the orcheftra a new freflincfs over the
** groves md the fields, tte 'W^IliipV^^^'^^^y'**
^ pi^fent any of thefe objeAsp l)ut fae will exdte
^^ in the mind the faiiie movedients whickit would
^* feel from feeing them^^^ ^ . -r :"!,y

Upon this very eloqqem defcription of »Wfe,
RdufTeau I nmft obferve,^ that without the acooi»
panifqent o£ the fcenery and afiionof t^ operas
without the affiftance either of the ibene-painter
or of the poet/ ot of both, thevtaftvumentalMu-
fic of the Orcheftre could produce none of the
eflfeAs which ate hire aCcribedf to it; and we
eould never know, we could never even guefs,
which of the gay, melancholy; or tranquil ob*
jeSts above mentioned it meant to repivfent to
us; or whether it meant to reprefent any ef
them, and not Aierely to ciitertatn' us with a

concert

«tC «r THE turrATCvi akts-

Of, w the ancimtt cidkd thmi^ of t^ IKtftaU
ttc» of the SjrfiUlw. or of thi U\dd]A Mufic.
Whk that aecomi^iiMfiw iadoolL thw^^ H
Monot alwajt eno. theo> fmhaps* bo faid pro-
Iperlx to imbate, y«t by fuppojptuig tho iieitafioa
of fonke othw art, it may produce all thfi fiime
efie^a opoo w as if,itfe)f ha4 ualtatod in tbe
fincft aj;i<i moft p^rfod maoiM^r^ What^vM be
i3ie objc^ or fituattoii whkh the (cono^piiattr
7ep?ofeot4 upon ib« iheatrox the Mififie of th^
orchcftfa, by difpofing the miki to the bmf bn
of mood afid leA^r whkh tt inoiild fe«l fioia
the prefeuee of that ol^^c^ ojf froift fjmyAthy
«ith th( peribo who waa placod istthat$W*
aioQ> can greatly enhance the ofTcA «f that s^
tatioa : k cao occonaQodaiba vtelf i(0 erf ly dk
mrfity of fiwooc The melancholy eif the paa
who^ tipoa fome great ^jmi^oi^ ooJIy fio4s^ Iidk
felf alone in the darknefs^ the filcnce and folh
Hide of the oigfal, ia ifwy dif^rot^t ffon tluu
«f one ii^ho^ opon a like MeaikM. foda hw^
jUf U the midft of feme dreai^ and inhe^fta^la
ifefert; and eten ia this fitoalioa Ua feeUog*
mwld not be the ftme aa if hairaa flmt qp ia
o fuhies'iaoeons dungeon^ The diSateot d^pro^i
of preciikua vith which the Ifofic of the fi^
eheftra can aceommodate kfelf to each of thoif
diverfitiea, maft dqaend eppik the taft% de
fenfibilky^ the ^cy wad imafl^iutioii of tkr
oompder: k may fometmieay ptihapa, cootri*
bute to thiapnodfioii^ thaa ia IhonU faSmh m

wdl

well as^it om, tlie foiiadft whidl eitli6r Mttiirally

•ccompaiiy, of wldck raighfe be ftipfofed to a^^ .

cos^uiy, tbe particular o^oGt^ rtprefekitedi

Tbc fymphoay Ut i^e Frendi opera of AkTOUt,

which iqutated t^ violenee of ibe imds and

the d^ing of th^ wiive% isi tlie! tompeft ^hiok

waa to drowo' Ceyx,* i^ tnn^oh cofUQieikded bj

coteipporary w4te)>a. Tltat ia tbd openr pC

10b, wbic^ imitated tliair HKirawlriiig ifi thf

leaves of the oaks of Podoga, wJHch tflaghtr to

foppofed tP precede the ikiiiraNNiloM ptoAwa&m^

lion of the oracle : Md t^at iii the d]^er» of

Amadis^ of wbicl^ the diiQftel* aciDeilti iffutated

the (ouada wlucb might be fuppoTed |o accoin^

paoy^ tke opening q£ the toinb of Ardtaq, be^

fore tk^ apparition pf thf; ghbft^ of tl|at vrm^

rior, are ftit^ more eebpbratedt lailrimieattal

Mttfic^ l)owever» without- vio^^tiag too muel^

its own melpdy atid havmony^ can ktiitAe but

imperfe^y th^ fot^nds pf aat^nd ol^e&s^ of

which the gr^^ter part have neither m^od^

nor harmony. Gre^( refefv^, great difcretion,

and a very nice difoe^^Mii^B^ ave rdquifita; ia

order to introduce vfitHf^^ prOpridty (tidi irapeis

fed imitatumsii either |nto Poetry or Muflc}

when repeated too often, when' eoijtinu^ too

long, they appear to b^ yf^9l^ they v^y mw^

loefie tvicfcs^ in. whieh a- verj^ inf^of alrdft^ if

be wiU only |^vo bimfelf ^ t^uttl^ to atccud

tQ them, caa aafily eq^aal the greateft^ I hsML

kvn a Latiq- t^fl|titm of^ M». PopeV Ode p*

Stt Cedfia'a* dayi iribkb- m^ tlia iti^A ^i^

nucb

un OF THE IMltATiVE ARTS/

much excelled thcn>riginal. Sucfh imitatibns are
ftiil eafier in Mufic. Both m the one art and
in the other, the difficulty is not ia making
them, as well as they are capable of being made,
but in knowing when and how far to make them
at all : but to be able to accommodate the tem-
per and charader of the Mufic to every pecu-
iiarity of the fceae and fituation with fuch cxaft
))recifioa, that the one fhall produce the very
fame effe£^ upon the mind as the other, is not
one of thpfe tricks in which an inferior artift
can eafity equal the great eft ; it is an art which
requires all the judgment, knowledge, and in-
vention of the moft confummate mafter* It is
upon this art, and not upoa its imperfefi imi*-
tation> either of real or imaginary founds, that
the great edfeds of inftrumental Mufic depend;
fuch imitations ought perhaps to be admitted
only fo far as^ they may fometimes contribute
to afcertain the meaning, and thereby to enhance
the effefis^ of this art.

. By endeavouring to extend the. eSe^s of
fcenery beyond what the nature of the ihing
will admit of, it has been much abufed ; and
in the common, as well as m the mufical' drama>
iBany imitations have been attempted, which,
after the firft and fecond time we have fcen
ibem, neceffarily appear ridiculous: fuch arc,
the Thunder rumbling from the Muftard-bowl,
and the Snow of Paper and thick Hail of Pcafe,
Jb finely cxpofed by Mr. Pope. Such imitations
4 . refemblc

^F THl IMITATIVE ARTS,' ui

refembk thofe of painted Statuary ; they may
furprize at firft, but they difguft ever after^
and appear evidently fuch fioiple and ealy trick$
as are fit only for the amufement of chiHrea
and their nurfes at a poppet-fliow. The thuu-
der of either theatre ought certainly oever to.
be louder than that which the orcheftre is ca-,
pable of producing; and their moft dreadful
tempcfta ought never to exceed what the fcenc
painter is capable of repiefenting* In fuch
imitations there may be* an art \i%ich merits
feme degree of efteem and admiration. In
the other there can be none^hich merits any.

This abufe of fcenery has both fobfifted nracK
longer, and been carried to a much greater de-
gree of extravagance, ki the mufical than in the
common d-rama. In France it has been long
baniflied from the latter ; but it ftill continueSj^
not only to be tolerateda but to be admired
and applauded in the former. In tTie French
operas^ not-only thunder and lightning, ftorm's
and tempefts, ar^ commonly reprefented in the
ridiculous manner above mentioned; but all the
hiarvellous, all the fupernatural of Epic Poetry,
all the metamorphofesi of* Mythology, all the
wonders of Witchcraft and Magic^ everything
that is moft unfit to be reprelented vpon the
ft age, are every day exhibited with the moft
complete approbation and applaufe of that in-
genious nation. The Mufic of the orcheftre
]producing upon the aHdiciite nearly the fame
^ .^ effea

tl« Of TKB HBTATITl AKWk

cffe^ vkich a betttr imd moie aitfiil imitadoi
Vfonld produce^ binders t)ifm frooi feeUofi «t
leafi iu. its fuU ibr«C9 the ridicule of iboif clnkU
ifli and ^ukward upiutio^s which peceflanly
abound in that extravagant (ceoevy* And ia
reiUity fuch ixnitatioaa, thongh no^ doubt ridi-
culous every where, yet certaiply appeanr ibise-
what Ids fb in the UHifical tba& tbey would in
the cownoz^ draoMK The Italian opera^ before
it was reformed by Apofiolo, i^o, and Mc^
taftafio, waft Ia thia^ refye& equftlly estsavagaat,
Vid waa upon thut account the ful^eft of the
agceeable r^iUeiy of Mk« ^Abddifeii. i^ fcvenl
different papers of the Spedator* ^ven fince
dot refoimatiiNi it fiiU ^oniiflata to be a role;,
that the (bene ibould dbaagi^ at leaft withcveiy
%&,i 9nd the unity of place nevey was a aoe«
iacred law in the roniBMii drama, than the vkk
tation of k ha« become in the mufieals the
Utter feema vok leality ta rehire both^ a num
plSurefqne ai^d «. more ncaried fiptacfy, than
U «t all nece0ary for the fidnuen la an openh
ISi the KInfic Aipport» the efB^ of i^ icentiys
ih' th^ icen^ry oftea lervea to detecmi>« tiia
chaxa^er^ and to^ explain, ihe meaning of ^
14u&i it ought |o vary theif;^>9e aa that^ chsp
xa&er vanes. The plenfure «£ an <^nik h^
0de8,. ia in its nature more % ienfmi)i pJeafoiei
than that of a common fiomedy ois twgfd^} tin
latter produce the» ofifeA pnncipa% b^ mcaos
of the imagkudon ; in thf doiet^. accoidifil^
thfiis effea. it^ not miMh wi^o» to wtefe it^

09 THX nOTATIVS ART& ni

upon tlic fia^, But th^ ^ffeft of an opera ia
ftldom ve^y gveat io the clof^j it «ddrcfl?a it^
idf mor^ to the extepa«l fenfea» md w it foothea
tb€ ear by iu loelody and harmony, I9 wo fed(
fbat it ovgkt tq daz«lc the eye with t^t^ (plex^^
dour aiv4 variety of its fe^eryt

la an opera the inftramenita) Mufic of the or^
cbeftre fupporta the iimtatioo bptU of the poel
aod of the<|Aor. aaweU aa of the fceae-paiiue««
The overtttre difpofea the mind to that mood
which 6tt i( jor the epewog of the piece. Tho
Mttfic iH^wf^QL the a£ia iteeps up the impreffioa
wMeh Xh/^ foregoing had made» and prepared ua
$ws tlAt whieh the followipg ia to ma^e, When
the orchoftre interrupts, «9^ it frequently doea>
mther Un le^^tive or the air* it ia m order
etthei to em^rcf the <rilR^ of ythn had gone
before, ^ ta put the vmd ia the^ iMod which
fita it for heanng what ia to come ai%er. fiotJh
ia the r«eitativea md ia the aira it iiccompar
nies und dire6^8 the votpe, and often bidugs k
back to the proper tone «nd modulation^ when
ii ia i^pon the point of wandering away £yom
them i and tbe correiE^efa of the be(i vocal
Vufic ia owing in a great meafure to the guim
dancie of iaftrumental; ihwgjn iq ^ thele caiea
it C^pporta the vnitation of imo^her art, yet in
all of than it may be laid rather to dimii^fii
thia to incMafe tho refemblance between tho
inkating and the imitated objeA. Hothins can
he iiKMt uAmfie tft nfemt <e«l^ p«flea in. thm

worlds

iji OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS.

world, than that perfons engaged in the mof^
intere(ling fittiaiions/ tioth t)fpublie and private
life, in forrow, in difappointment, in diftrefs,
in defparr, ftiould, in all that they fay and do,
be ooriftantJy accompanied with a fine concert
pjf inftrumcntal Mufic, Were wc to refleft
upon it^ fuch accompaniment muft in all cafes
diminifti the probability of the a6lion, and ren-
der the reprefentation ftill leU like nature thau
it oth«rwife would be. It h not by imitation,
therefore, that inftrumental Mufic fupports and
enforces the imitations of the other arts ; but
it is by producing upon the mind, in confer
quence of other powers, the fame fort of ef-
feft which the mofl cxaA imitation of nature,
which the nioft perfeft obfervationof probabi-
lity, could produce. To produce this effcfl
is, iri fuch entertainments^ the fol^ end aod
purpofc of that imitation and obfcrvation. If
it can be equally well produced by other means,
this end and purpofc may be ecjually well an-
fwered,

But if inftrumental Mufic can feldom be faid to
be properly imitative, even when it is employed
to fupport the imitation of fome other art, it is
commonly ftill lefs fo when it is employed alone.
Why fliould it embarrafs its melody and harmo-
ny, or conftrain its time and meafure, by attempt-
ing an imitation which, without the accompaui-
meut of fome other art to explain and interpret
its meaning, nobody is likely to underftand ? In

. the

[. «fl"

OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS, 235

tlie. moft approved iBftrumental Mufic, iiceord-,
iflgly, in the overtures of Handel ajad the concer-
tos of Corelli, there is little or no^imitatioB,
and where there is anyi it is the fource of. but a
very frnaU part of the merit of thofe coimpcjfitlons;*
Without-any imitation/inftruinental Mufic caa
produce very confiderable efifefts ; tl^oujgh ita
powers over the heatt and affeftions are, no
doubt, ^ much inferior to thofe of vocal Mufic, it
has, however, confiderable powers j by the^fweet^
Qefs of its founds it awakens agreeabl}|» knd.caUs
upon the attention ; by their connecElion and af*
finity it naturally detains that attention, which
follows eafily a feries of agireeable founds, which
have all a certain relation both to a common, fun-
damental, or leading note, called the key note ;
and to a certain fucceflion or combination of notes,
called the fong or compofition. By means of thig
relation each foregoing, found feetnsto introduce^
and as it were prepare the mind for the ifollowiDg:
by its rhythmus, by its time and meafure, it difpof-
ts that fucceflion of founds into a certain arrange*
iiieati which renders the whole more cafy to be
comprehended and remembered. Time and mea-
fure are to inftrumental Mufic what order and me-
thod are to difcourfe ; they break it into proper
parts, and divifions, by which we arc enabled
both to remember better what is gone before, and
frequently to forefec fomewhat of what is to come
after : we frequently forefee the return of a pe-
riod which we know muil correfpond to another

- which

ij4 6ptk£ittitATiVXAkfft:

ifMch wb remember v6 hi^e gone beifMe ; ixA^
iccof dinf to the fajdng of ta, ancient philofopjier
iiid tnufician, the eiyoynienfc of Mn^b al-lfes
l^artiy ttttn ttiemorjr and partly from fbtefiglit;
When the meaTure, Afteir having been continued
to long is to fatiiify ttd, changes to another^ thiR
tariet)^^ whieh thus difappoints^ becomes more
f^reeabletOM than the nnifohnitjr tirhtch would
h&ve |ratiSed 6m etpeaation i bnt without thia
order and method we could teitaember very Itttle
df what had gdne before^ and we could ferefee
ftill lefs of What was to come a^er; and the whole
enjoyment of Mufic would be equal to little more
than the effed of the particular founds which
rung in our ears at a very particular inftant By
means of this order and method it is, dliring the
progrefs of the enteruinmentj equal to the eflfed
of all that we remember, and of all that we fore-
fee i and at the conclufion, to the combined and
accumulated effeft of all the difTerent parts of
which the whole was compofed^

A well*compofed concerto of inftrumentatKfu<
iic, by the number and variety of the inftruments,
by the variety of the parts which are performed
by them, and the perfeA concord or correfpon-
dence of all thefe different parts ; by the exad
harmony or cpincidence of all the different founds
which are heard at the fame time, and by that
happy variety of meafure which regulates the foe-
ccffioa of thofe which are heard at different

times.

©r *BflE litttAllVt Aits- tis

Umes, t>refents in 6bjt€t to iigr«eable» fo
great, ft vtriou8» and fo intereftmg, that aloi)^
and withdut fuggtfling any other objed, tither
byimiution orotherwife, it can occupy^ and as
h were fill tip, completely the whole capacity of
the mind, fo as to leave no pan of its attention
vacant foi^ thinking of any thing elfe^ In the con*
templation of that imnK^nfe variety of agreeably
and melodious founds, arranged and digefted^
both in their coincidence iind in their fuctef&on^
into lb complete and tegulal^ a fyfieoi^ the mind
in reality enjoys not only a very great fenfual> bttt
a very high intelle^ual, ^ikafbre^ not unlike tha(
which it derives from the contemplation of agr^at
fyftem in any other fcience« A full conceng of
fuch infti^umemal Muiic, not only does not re*
quire, but it does not admit of any atcompani^*
mont. A foDg or a dance, by dema^nding an at«
tention which we have not to fpare, would dif*
turb, inftead of heightening) the tSeSt of the
Muiic } they may often very propftrly fucceed*
but they cannot accompany, it. That muiie feU
dom means to tell any particular ftory, or to imi*
tate any particular event, or in general to fuggeft
any particular objefi, diftin^i from that combt*
nation of founds of which itfelf is compofed. Jim
meaning, therefore, may be faid to be complete
b itfelf, and to require no interpreters te explain
&• What is called the fubjed of fuch Mufic i$
merely, as has already been faid, a certain lead*
ipg combination of notes, to which it frequentljr
returns, and to which all its digreflions and van-*

ationa

23< OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS.

ations bear a certnin affinity. . Jt is altogether difi
ierent from wliat is called the fubjeft of a poem of
k pifturc, which is always fpmethiog which is not
cither iii the poem o.r in the pidure, or fomiething
quite (liftln(^ from tKat combiaation, either of
words on the one hand, 6r of colours on the other,
of which they are k-erpe^ivejy compofed. The
ful(je£l of a compofition oi* lattrumental Mu-
iic Is a part of that compofition: thefubae£iofa
J)oem or pifture is no part ojf either;

' The cfte<^ oif inftrumen'tal Mufic Upon tlic
mmd has been called its expreffion. In the feelr
ing it is frequently not unlike the effc6i of what is
called the expreffion of Paintingj ind is fometimes
equally fnterefling. But the effeft of the expfcf-
fioti bf Painting arifes alwkys from the thought of
fomethihg which^ though diftindly and ctcarljf
fuggefted by the drawing and colouring of the
pidlure, is altogether different from that drawing
and cdlouring. It iYifes fometimes from fyffipa-
thy with, fometimes from antipathy and averfioa
to, the feticim^nts, emotions, and jpaffions which
the countenance, the aflioii, the air and attitude
of the pcrfons rcprefanted fuggeft. The .melody
and harmony of inflrumental muCc, on the con-
trary, do not diftindly and clearly fuggefl any.
thing that is different from that melody and har-
mony. Whatever effedl it produces is the immc-
mediate effedl of that melody and harmony, and
not of fomething elfe which is fignified and fug-
gcfled by them : they in fadl fignify and fuggeft

nothing-

Of THB IMITATIi;^ AIIT& 837

BOthin^. It may be proper to fay that the com*
plete ^rt of painting, the complete merit of a pic*
tore, is compofed of three diflin£t arts or me-
rits ; ' that of .drawing, that; of colouring, and,
that of ezprefiion. But to fay, as Mr. Avifoa
does^ that the complete art of a muiician, the
complete merit of a piece of Mufic, is compofed
or made up of three difiin^ arts or merits, that of
melody, that of harmony, and that of expreffion,
is to fay, that it is made up of melody and harmo-
ny, apd of the immediate and necefTary effe£l of
melody and harmony : the di viiion is by no means
logical ; expreffion in painting is not the neceflary
efTedl either of good drawing or of^ood colouring,
or of both together ; a pifture may be both finely
drawn ind finely coloured, and yet have very little
expreffion : but that effefl upon the mind which is
called expreffion in Mufic, is the immeoiate and
neceflary efleft of good melody. In the power of
producing this efieA confifls the eflential charac-
teriftic which diftinguifiies fuch melody from what
is bad or indifferent. Harmony may enforce the
effeft of good melody, but without good melody
the mod fkilful harmony can produce no eScQ:
which deferves the name of expreffion; it can do
little more than fatigue and confound the ear. A
painter may poflefs, in a very eminent degree, the
talents of drawing and colouring, and yet pof-
fefs that of expreffion in a very inferior degree.
Such a^ painter, too, may have great merit. In
the judgment of De Piles, even the celebrated Ti-

R tian

Jjl OP THE IMTTATIVE AjlTS.

ffan ivas a painter of tMs kind. Bvt to fa^ tkat a
tnufician ]iofleired the talents of melody and
hattnony in a very emtnent degree, and that of
txpteffion in a very inferior one, wonld be to
fay, that in his works the canfe was not follow-
ed by its neceffary and proportionable effed. A
tnulician may be a rcvy fkiiful harmonift, and
yet be defedive in the talents of melody, air,
and expreflion ; his fong^ may be dull and with^
out effefi. Such a mufician too may have a cer*
tain degree of merit, not unlike that of a man
of great leaming> who wants fancy^ tafte, and
invention.

i
Inllrumental Mufic, therefore, though it m^,

no doubt, be confidered in fome refpedsas an
imitatitr^ art, is certainly lefs (b than any other
which merits that appellation ; it can imitate
lofut a few objei&s, and even thefe (6 imperfeSly)
that without the accompaniment of fome other
art, its imitation is fearce ever intelligible: imi-
tation is by no means elTential to it, and the
principal tfk6ts which it is capable of producing
arife from powera altogether difS^rent from thole
of imitation.

PART

OF THX IMITATIVE ARTl % j^

]P A R T IIL

A llE imitative powers of Dancing are much
fuperior to thofe of inftnimental Mufic, and are
at teaft equal, perhaps fuperior, to. thofe of any
other art. Like inftrumental Mufic, however, it
is not neceffarily or effentially imitative, and
can produce very agreeable efFe£ls, without imi-
tating any thing. In the greater part of our
tommon dances there is little or no imitation,
and they confift almoft entirely 6f a fucceffioa
of fuch fteps, geflures, and motions, regulated
by the time and meafure of Mufic, as either dif-
play extraordinary grace or require extraordina-
ry agility. Even fome of our dances, which
are faid to have been originally imitative, have,
in the way in which we praftife them, almoft
ceafed to be fo. The minuet in which the wo-
man, after pafling and repafling the man feveral
times, firlt gives him up oac hand, then the
other, and then both hands, is faid to have beea
originally a Moorilh dance, which emblematical-
ly reprefenied the paffion of love. Many of my
readers may have frequently danced this dance,
and, in the opinion of all who faw them, with
great grace and propriety, though neither they
nor their fpedators once thought of the allego-
rical meaning which it originally intended to ex;-
prefs.

K z A certaia

^4* OF THE IMITATIVE. JOITS- .

A certain meafured, cadenced ftep, commonly
called a dancing fiep, which keeps time with,
and as it were beats the ibeaftire of, the Mufic
which accompanies and direds it, is the eflential
chara&eriftic which diftinguiihes a dance froBi
every other fart of motion. When the dancer^
moving with a ftcp of this kind, and d3f€rYing
this time and meafure, imitates either the ordi*
nary or the more important anions of buman
life, he {hapes and fafhions, as it were^ a thing
of one kind, into the refemblance of another
thing of a very different kind : his art conquers
the difparity which Nature has placed between
t^e imitating and the imitated obje^^ and has
upon that account fome degree of that fort of
merit which belongs to all the imitative arts.
'This difparity, indeed, is not fo great as in fome
other of ihofe arts, nor confequently the merit
of the imitation which conquers it. Nobody
would compare the merit of a good imitative
dancer to that of a good painter or fiatuary.
The dancer, however, may have a very confi-
derable degree of merit, audi his imitation per-
haps may fometimes l^e. capable of giving us as
much pleafure as that of either of the other two
artifls. All the fubjeds, either of Statuary or
of Hiftory Painting, are within the compafs of
his imitative powers ; and in reprefenting them,
his art has even fome advantage over the other
twd. Statuary and Hiftory Painting can repre-
fent but a fingle infiant of the aAion which they
mean to imitate: the caufes which prepaied,

the

tat THE IMTTATIVE ARTS. t4l

the confequenoes vi^ich followed* thefifnation of
that fingle ioAast are altogether beypnd the
jcompafs of their imitation. A pantomime dance
can reprefent diftinj^ly thofe caufes and confe-
quences ; it is not confined to the fitoation of a
fingle iaAant ; but, like Epic Poetry, it can re*
prefeot all the events of a long ftory, and exhi^
]m a IcHig tradn and fucceflioii of c6nne&ed and
ioterefting fituationsy It is capable therefore of
affe&ing us much more than either Statuary ox
Painting* The ancient Romans ufed to ihed
tears at the reprefentations of their pantomimes,
as we do at that of the mofl interefting trager
dies; an effe& which is altogether be^OQd the*
powei:? of Statuary or Painting,

The ancient Greeks appear to have been a
nation of dancers, and both their conunon and
tfaeii^ ftage dances feem to have been all imita^*
tive. The ftage dances of the ancient Romans
appear to hav6 been equally fo« Among that
grave people it was ^ckoned indecc^nt to dance
in private focieties; and they could therefore
have no common dances^ Among both nations
imitation feems t6 have been confidered as eflen^r
tial to dancing.

It is quite otherwife ii^ ouxiern times \ though
we have pantomime dances upon the ftage, yet
the greater part even of our ft^ge dances are not
pantomime, and cannot well be faid to imitate
any thing. The greateJT put of our common

. dances

tift GOT THE miTAinVK : AltTBL

dances either nerer were ptatemimei iUi irith
a very few excepttcms^ have ahgiKifi all C€af<?d tQ
be fo.

This remarkable difference of charader be^
tween the ancient and the modern dances feeoM
to be the natural ^cA of a correfpondent dif*
ftttntt in that of the Mufip, which hat accpn&<
panied and dirc^led both the one and the other.

In modem times we almoft always dapce ta
inftrumental Mufic, which being itfelf not imi-;
tittive, the greater part of the dances which it
diredla, and as it we^e infpires^ have chafed ta
be fo. In ancient times, on the contrary, thej
feem to have danced almoft always, to vocal Mu*
fie ; which beixig uecefiarily and efientially imita-
tive, their dances became So top^ The ancients
feem to have had littlf or nothing of what is
properly called infimmental Mnfip^ or of Mu<
fie compofed not to be iting by the voice, but to
be played upon inftrument^ tuid both their wind
and their ftringed infirumenta feem to have fenr*
ed only as an aecompanimrat and diie&ion to
th? voice.

In the country it frequently happens that a
company of yoimg people take a &ncy to (bace,
though they have neither fiddler nor pi|)er to
dance to. A lady undertakes to fing whik the
teft of the company dance : in mdd cafes ihe
finga the aMtes only^ wkhout the words, and

.then

or IBELnOrATFRE ART8L i^f

Atn tlse yoke being Gttle more xbmi a nrafical
ii^nnnent^ the dance is perfonned in the nfttal
V9sy, without any imitation. Bift if fiie fings
the worda^ and if in thefe words there happens
to be fiuoiewhat more than ordinary fpirit hnd
homour^ immediately all the company, efpeciaUyr
all thebeft dancers, and all thofe whoxlance moft
at their eafe, become n^ore o* lefa pantomtmea, andl
by their geftuKs and motions exprefs, as well at
they can, the meaning and ftory of the fong.
This would be fiill more the cafe, if the fame
perfon both danced and fung; a pra^ice very
common ;unong the ancienta: it requires good
lungs and a vigorous conftitution j b}it with thefo
advanta^^s and long practice, the Vicry highell
dances may be performed in tht< manner. I
have feen a IS^egro dance to his pwi^ fong, the
war-dance of his own country, wi^h fuch yehe-
mence of aflion and expreffion, ^hat the whole
company, gentleman as well as ladies, got up
upon chairs and tables, to bp as qmch as poflible
out of the way of his fury. In the Greek lan-
guage there are two v^rbs which both fignify to
dance ; each pf whi$h hM its proper derivatives,
fignifying a dance and a dancer. In the greater
part of Greel^ authors, thefe twQ fets of words,
like all others which are nearly fynonimous, are
frequently confounded, and ufed promifcqoufly.
According to the beft critics, however, in flri^
propriety, one of thefe verbs figmiies to dance and
fing at the fame time, or to dance to one's own
mufic. The other to dance without fingtng, or

to

944 or THE nilTATIVE AKTS.

to dance to the mufic of other people^ There is
faid to be a correfpondent differencle in the figai-
fication of their refpedive derivatives. In the;
chorufes of the ancient Greek tragedies, coniift-
ing fometimes of more than fi&y perfons, ibme
piped and fome fung, but all danced, ai^d danc-
ed to their own mufic.

« m «'«F'» »« m m * »«
^ m « m » « »««. « i^ *

Q^^\The following Obfervations were Jound among
Mr. Smith's ManufcriptSy without any inti-
mation whether they were intended as pari of
this, or of a different tjfay. As they appeared
too valuable to he fupprejedy the Editors Itave
availed them/elves of their connexion with the
pdffa^e referred to in p, 203. and have annexed
them to this Effayj\

. Of the Affinity bett/ueen Mufc, Dancings and.
Poetry.

In the fecond part of this EfTay I hayeinention-
cd the connexion between the two arts of Mufc
and Dancing formed bj the Rythmus, as tbe an-

dents

{dents termed U> oi^ as we csiU ^t, the tune oi^,
meafure^t ^quaijy jrf^ulstfs botl^.

Itisnof, howevei:, <ivei:y foi$ of ftep, gefture,
or motion, of wllich the correfpondencc: with the
tune or meafqre of Mpfiq \yUl cox^i^icute a Dan^e.
It mufi be a ftep, gefture^ or motion of a particu-t
lar fort. In a good 0pera-a£lor, ijipt only the mo-
dulations and paufe$ of his voice, but every mo^
tion and gefture^ every variation, either in the
^r of hi$. head or in the; attitude of his body^, cpr«*
refpond to the time and meafure of Mu£lc. Th^
beft opera-a^or, however, is not, according to
the langus(ge of any country in Europe, under**
flood to danc^ y^ in the performance oif his part
he generaUy makes ufe of what is called the ilage
ftep ; but eyen tlus (lep is not underftood tobe
a dancing (tep.

Though the eye of th^ moil ordinary fpedator
readily diftinguiflies between ^hat is called a
dan(:ing ftep and any Qther Aep^ g^i^ure^ or mo-
tion, yet it may nqt perhaps bf very eafy tp ex*
prefs what it i§ which cQuftitutes^ this difUndioi^.
Tp afcertain exad^ly the precife limits at ^hich
the one fpecies begins, and the other ends, ortp
give' an accurate de^nition of this very frivolous
piatter^ might perhaps reqi^ire more, thought and
attention, than the very fm^U importance of the
fubjeA may feetu tp dcferye. Were I, however,
to attempt to do this, I ihould obferv^, that
though in performing any ordinary a^ion — ^in

walking

tjf/s or "fliE iMrrATiv£ ailtb.

walking for eKampfe-^rom the one end of tbf
room to th^ other^ a peribn may ifaafir both grace
and agility, yet if he betrays the leaft intention of
ihowing either, he is fure of ofiendiag more or
lers, and we never &it to accufe Mm of fomedegree
of vanity and affediation. In the perfonnwoe of
any fwh ordinary a&ion, every perfon wifbes to
appear to be folely occupied about the proper pur-
pofe of the a^ion : if he means to ihov either
grace or agility, he is carefol to conceal that mean*
ing, and he is very feldofti fuccefsfiil in doing fo :
he offends, however, juft in propcMtion as he be*
trays it, and he almoft always betrays it. In
Dancing, on the contrary, every perfon profcfc
fesv and avows, as it .were, the intention of dif«
playing fome degree either of grace^ or of agility,
or of both. The difplay of one, or other, or
both of thefe qualities, is in reality the propet
purpofe of the adion j and there can never be
any difagreeable vanity or affeftation in following
out the proper purpofe of any a&ion. When we
fay of any particular perfon, that he gives hiirfetf
many aifefted airs and grates in Dancing, we
mean either that he gives btrafelf airs and graces
tirhtch are unfuitable.to th^ nature of the Danced
or that he executes aukwardly, perhaps exagge-
rates too much, (the moft common fault in Danc-
ing,) theairs and graces which are fuitable to it.
Every Dance is in reality a fi>eceffion of airs and
graces of ibme kind or other, and of airs and
graces which, if I may fay fo, proftfs themfelTCS
10 be fueh, The ftcps, genres, and motions

which,

titick^ «a it were, avow the {mention of exhibit^
}8% t focceffion of fucfa airs and graces, are t!ie
^cps, gpftdres, 4nd motions which are pecpKtf
to Dancing, and when theff are performed to the
time and mealnre ofMufic, ^hey co^ftt^me wha^
18 properly called a Pance.

Bat tfaongh every ibrt of ftep, gefture, or m<h
tion, even though performed to the time and mea«
fare of Mufic^ will not alone make a Dance, ye(
almoft any fort of found, provided it is repeate((
with a difiind rythmus, or according to a diftin£k
time and tneafure, though without any variatiou
as to gravity or acutpnefs^ will make a fort of
Mafic, no doubt indeed, an imperfe^l onfe^
Pruins, cymbals, ^nd, fo fkr as t have obferved,
all other inftruments of percuflion, have only
one note } this note, however, when repeated
with a certain rythmus, or according to a certain
time and meafure, and foih^times, in order to
mark more diftin^ly that titne and meafure, with
fome little variation as to loudnefs and lownefs^
though without any as to acutenefs and gravity;
does certainly make a fort of Mufic, which is fre-
quently far from being difagr^eable, and which
even fomettmes produces confiderable elfeAs*
The fimple note of fuch inflruments^ it is true,
is generally a very cl^ar, or what is called a me-
lodious, found. It d^oes not however feeniindif-
penfably neceiTary that it fhould be fo. The found
of the muffled drum, when it beats the dead
march, is far from being either clear or melodi-

OUSi

(^1 Of THE IIOTATIVE ARTS;

OU8, «ad yet k ceitaialy produces a fpecies of
Kufic^ yrhkh i$ Annetinics affeAing. ]^yen iii
the per£3rfBan.Cfe of ikp moft humblfc of all ardfts,
the man whp (jruma itpQU the uble with his fin*
gerst w^ maf (boietim^ diftifiguifli the meafare,
afid perhaps a little of the humour^ of fome h^
yourite fong; and we muft allow that even be
make$ fome fprt qf Mufic. Without a proper
Hep and ipotiou, the ohfervation of tune alone
yfill not make a Dance; timealooe;^ without tune,
IviU msil^e fofne f<urt pf ^ufic« ,

That exad obferVaticAi of tune> or of the pitv»
per intervals of giravity and acutenefs^ which con-
ilitute^ the great bfsauty of all peifeA Mufic, con-
stitutes likewife its great difficulty, The time or
meafufe pf a fong are fimple ipatters, which even
acoarfe a^d unpradlifed ear is capaUe of difiin-
g!£iiihing and comprehending : but to diftinguiih
and cqmpreh^hd all the variations of the tune,
and tp conceive with precifiop, tbe^xad propor-
tion of every note, is what the fineft and moft
cultivated ear is frequently no more than capable
of perfprming. In the £jiging of the common
people w<e may generally remark a diftin& enough
obfervation of time, but a very imperfedi one of
tune. To difcoyer and to diflinguifb with preci-
fion the proper intervals of tune, muft have been
a work of long experience and much obfervation.
In the theoretical treatifes upon Muiic, what the au-
thors have to fay upon time is commonly difcufled
in a fingle chapter of no gr^at length or difficulty.

The

OF THE IMITATIVE ARTS. %^

The theoiy of tune fills cooimonly all the reft of
the volume, and has long ago become both an
ezteniive and an abftrilfe fdence^ which is often
but imperfeAly comprehended^ even by intelU*
gent artifts. In the firfi rude e£Ebrts of uncivi-
lized nations towards finging» the niceties of
tune could be but little attended to : I have, up-,
on this account, been frequently difpofed to
doubt of the great antiquity of thofe national
fongs, which it is pretended have been delivered
down from age to age by a fort of oral tradition,
without having been ever noted, or diftin£tly re-
corded for many fucceflive generations. The
meafure, the humour of the fong, might per-
haps have been delivered down in this manner,
but it feems fcarcely poffible that the precife
notes of the tune ihould have been fo preferv-
ed. The method of finging fome of what we
reckon our old Sc6tch fongs, has undergone
great alterations within the compafs of my me-
mory> and it may have undergone flill greater
before*

The diftindion between the founds or tones
of finging and thofe of fpeaking feems to be of
the fame kind with that between the fleps, gef-.
tures> and motions of Dancing, and thofe of any
other ordinary adion ; though in fpeaking a per*
fon may fliow a very agreeable tone of voice,
yet if he feems to intend to ihow it, if he ap-
pears to liften to the found of his own voice,

and

ijb br tB* iMTTATivt Asm

ttki fts it were ta tune it into a jJiea^ng modu-
lation, he nJever fails to ofibnd, ak guilty of a
moft liifagreeable affs^tion. In fpeakiog; u
in every othef ordinary a^^ion, w expeA and
require that the ipeaker (hould attrad only to
the proper purpoi^ of the a6iion^ th/t clear and
dillini^ expreffion of what he has td fay. In
finging, on the contrary, every perfon profefiei
the intention to pleafe by the tone and ^denc€
of iiis Toice ; and he not only a|ipears to te
gtiihy of no difagreeable affe&ation in doing foi
bnt we expe£l and require that he fiiould dofo.
To pleafe by the choice and arrangement of t-
greeable founds is the proper pnrpofe of all Mu«
fie, vocal as well as inftrumental ; and we always
expeft and require, that every perfon fhoiiid at**
tend to. the proper purpofe of whatever action
he is performing. A perfon may appear to fiog,
as well as to dance, affededly ; he may endea*
^our to pleafe by founds and tones which are
unfuitable to the nature of the fong, or he may
dwell too much on thofe which are fuitable to it,
or in fome other way he may fhow an overween-
ing conceit of his own abilities, beyond what
ieems to be warranted by his performance. The
difagreeable affectation appears to confift always,
not in attempting to pleafe by a proper, bat by
fome improper modulation of the voice. It was
early difcovered that the vibrations of chords or
firings, which either in their lengths, or in their
denlities, or in their <iegreee of cen&on, bear a

certain

dr tHJft tttlTAtlVE ARtS. 251

certam proportion to one another, produce founds
which correfpond exaftlyj or, as the muficians
fay, are the unifons of^ ihofe founds or tones of
the human voice which the ear approves of in
finging. This difcovery has enabled muficians
to fpeak with diftindlnefs and precifion concern-
ing the mufical founds or tones of the human
voice ; they can always precifely afcertain what
are the particular founds or tpnes which they
mean, by afcertaining what are the proportions of
the firings of which the vibrations produce the
unifons of thofe founds or tones. What are call-
ed the intervals; that is, the differences, in point
of gravity and acutenefs, between the founds or
tones of a finging voice, are much greater and
more diflind than thofe of the fpeaking voice.
Though the former, therefore, .can be meafured
and appreciated by the proportions of chords or
firings, the latter cannot. The nicefl inflru-
ments cannot exprefs the extreme minutenefs of
thefe intervals. The heptamerede of Mr. Sau^
Hjcur could exprefs an interval fo fmall as the fe-
venth part of what is called a comma, the fmall*
eft interval that is admitted in modern Mufic.
Yet even this inflrument, we are informed by
Mr. DMcloSt could not exprefs the minutenefs
of the intervals in the pronunciation of the
Chinefe language; of all the languages in the
worlds that of which the pronunciation is faid
to approach the nearefl to finging, or in which
the intervals are faid to be the greatefl.

As

2it ©F THE IMITATIVE ART81

As the founds or tones of the finging ^oice^
therefore, can be afcertained or appropriated^
while thofe of the fpeaking voice cannot; the
former are capable of being noted or recorded^
while the lauer are not.

OF

If H E A F F I N I T Y

B£TWZEN CERTAIH

ENGLISH AND ITALIAN VERSES,

or CERTAIN ^
ENGLISH AND ITALIAN VERSES,

X HE meafure of the verfes, of which the oc^
tave of the Italians, their tera^tti, and the greats
er part of their fonnets, are compofed, f^ms tq
be as nearly the fame with that of the EuglifH
Heroic Rhyme, as the difier^ot genius and pro^
punciation of the two Uncages will permit.

The EngHfli Heroic Rhyme is fuppofed to
confift fometimes of ten, and fometimes of ele«
ven fyliables : of ten, when the verfe ends with
a fingle; and of eleven^ when it ends with a
double rhyftie,

"f he coiT^fpondetit Italiau verfe is fuppbfedt
to confift fometimes of ten, fometimes of ele-
ven, atld fometiqies of twelve fyliables, accord-
ing as it happens to^ end with a fingle, a double^
or a triple rhyme.

The rhyme ought naturally to fall upon the

laft fyllable of the verfe ; it is proper likewife

that it fhould fall upon an accented fyllable, in

order to rendelr it more fenfible. When, there-

S z \ fore.

25« OF CERTAIN ENGLISH

fore, the accent happens to fall, not upon the
laft fyllable, but upon that immediately before it,
the rhyme muft fall both upon the accented fyU
lable and upon that which is not accented. It
muft be a double rhyme-
In the Italian language, when the accent falls
neither upon the laft fyllable, nor upon that im-
mediately before it, but upon the third fyllable
from the end, the rhyme muft fall upon all the
three. It muft be a triple rhyme, and the verfe
is fuppofed to confift of twelve fyllables :

FoTii era vcr^ nonpero cred^hUe^ dec*

Triple rhymes are not admitted in Englilh He-
roic Verfe,

In the Italian language the accent falls tnuch,
more rarely, either upon the third fyllable from
the end of a word, or upon the laft fyllable? than it
does upon the one immediately before the laft.
In reality, this fecond fyllable from the end
feems, in that language, to be its moft common
and natural place. The Italian Heroic Poetry,
therefore, is compofed principally of double
rhymes, or of verfes fuppofed to confift of ele-
Ten fyllables. Triple rhymes occur but feldoin,
and fingle rhymes ftill more feldom.

In the Englifti language the accent falls fre-
quently upon the laft fyllable of the word. Our
language, beftdes^ abounds in words of one fyl-

> lable,

AND ITALIAN VERSES. ^57

labfe, the greater part of which do (for there
are few which do not) admit of being accent-
ed. Words of one fyllable are moft frequently
the concluding words of Englifti rhymes. For
both thefe reafons, Englifti Heroic Rhyme is
principally compofed of fingle rhymes, or of
verfes fuppofcd to confift of ten fyllables. Dou-
ble Rhymes occur almoft as rarely in it, as ei-
ther. fingle or triple do in the Italian.

The rarity of double rhymes in Englifh He-
roic Verfe makes them appear odd, and auk-
ward, and even ludicrous, when they occur. By
the bell writers, therefore, they are referved
for light and ludicrous occaiions ; when, in or-
der to humour their fubjedi, they ftoop to a
more familiar ftyle than ufual. When Mr. Pope

Worth makes the man^ and want of it the fellow ;
The reft is all but leather or prunello ;

he means, in compliance with his fubje^, to con-
defcend a good deal below the ftatelinefs of his
diCllon in the Effay on Man. Double rhymes
abound more in Dryden than in Pope, and in
Hudibras more than in Dryden.

The rarity both of fingle and of triple rhymes
in Italian Heroic Verfe, gives them the fame
odd and ludicrous air which double rhymes
have in Englifh Verfe. In Italian, triple rhymes

occur

t$9 OP CERTAIN ENGLISH

occur more frequently than fingle r^yihcsi TKc
flippery, or if I may be allowed to ufe a very
low, but a very exprcflive word, the glib pro-
nunciation of the triple rhyme (verfo Jbtruc-
eiolo) feems to depart lefe from the ordinary
movement of the double rhyme, than the ab-
rupt ending of the fingle rhyme (verfo iromo
€ cadente) of the verfe that appears to be cut
off, and to fall fhort of the ufual meafur^. Sin-
gle rhymes accordingly appear in Italian verfc
much more burlefque than triple rhymes. Sin-
gle rhymes occur ^ very rarely in Ariofto; but
frequently in the more burlefque poem of Ric-
ciardetto. Triple rhymes occur much oftener
in all the bed writers. It is thus, that what
in Engliih appears to be the verfe of the great-
, eft gravity^ and dignity, appears in Italian to
be the moft burlefque and ludicrous; for w
other reafon, I apprehends but becaufe in the
one language it is the ordinary verfe, whereas
in the other it departs the moft from the moye-
ment of the ordinary verfe.

The common Italian Heroic Poetry, being cqm-
pofed of double rhynaes, it can admit both qf
fingle and of triple rhymes ; which fecm to re-«
cede from the common nKXvemeht on oppofitc
fides to nearly equal diftances. The comqiofl
Englifli Heroic Pojetry, coi^fifting of fingle rhyipes,
it can admit of double; but it cannot admit
of triple rhymes, which would recede fo. far
firom the common movements as to appear

perfcflily

AND ITALtAtJ VERSKS. «S9

perffealy bUrlefque and ridiculous. In Eoglifh,
when a wo^rd accented lipon the third fyllable
from the end happens to nvike the laft word of
a verfe, the rhyme falls upon the laft fyllable
only. It is a fingle rhyAie, and the verfe con-
fifts of t^ more than (en fyllables : but aa the
laft CyMable h not accented, it is an iia2pQrfe&
rhyme, which, however, when confined to the
fecond verfe of the ceiap4et, and even there ifl-
troduced but rarely, may have a Very agreeable
grace, and the line may even feem to run more
eafy and natural by means of it t

But of thiji frame^ tHe ib^rinjji, and the ties^
Tbe find conntdicms, nice dependencies, &x*

When by a well accented fyllable in the end
of the firft line <^ a couplet, it has once beea
dearly afcertained what the rhyme is to be, a
very flight allnfion to it, inch as can be made
by a fyllable of the fame termination that is
not accented) n>ay often be fufiBcient to mark
the coincidence in the fecood line i a word of
this kind in the end of the firft line feldom fuc«
ceeds fo weH :

Th' inhabitants of old JetidUem

Weije Jebuiites ; th(e town fo called from them*

A couplet in w^ich both verfes were terminated
in this manner, would be extremely difagreeable
and offenlive.

ifc OF CERTAIN ENGLISH

la countiDg the fyllaWes, cvea of Verfes
"which to the ear appear fufBciently conefi, a
confiderable indulgence muft frequently be given,
before they can^ in eitheir language^ be reduced
to the precifii number of ten> eleven, or twelve,
according to the nature of the rhymes In the
following eouplet, for example, there are, find-
ly fpeaking, fourteen fyllablea in the firft line,
and twelve in the fecond^

And inany a humourous, many an amorout laj.
Was fung hj ihaiij a bard, oil many a lla)r.

fiy the rapidity, howeveh. or, if I may ufe a
very low word a fecond time, by the glibncfs
of the pronunciation, thofe fourteen fyllables
in the firft liiie, and thofe twelve in the fecond,
appear to take up thie time but of ten ordinary
fyllables. The words, tnany a, though they
plainly confift of three . diftinft fyllables, or
founds, which are all pronounced fucceflively,
or the one after the other, yet pafs as but two
fyllables i as do likewife thefe words hunmrm
and amoireusx The w6rd8 heaven and given in
the fame manner, confift each of them of two
fyllables, which, how rapidly foever they may
be pronoujiced, ci^nndt be pronounced but fuc-
ceffively, or the one after the other. In Verfe,
however, they are confidered as^ confiftiogbut
of one fyllable each.

In counting the fyllables of the Italian Heroic
Verfe, fiill greater indulgences muft be allowed:

three

AND ITALIAN VERSES. t6i

)Lbiee Towelft muft there frequently be counted
as making but one fyllable, tliough they are all
pronounced, rapidly indeed^ but in fucceflions
or the one after the other, and though no two
of them are fuppofed to make a diptlithoi^.
In thefe licences too, the Italians feem not to
be very regular, and the fame concourfe of
vowels whic^h in one place makes but one fyl-
hble, will in another fometimes make two-
There are even fome wbrds which in the end
of a verfe are conftantly counted for two fyl-
lables, but which in any other part of it are
never counted for more than one, fuch sajiio,
tuoy fuoU tuoi.

Rufcelli oUi;rves, that in the Italian Heroic
Verfe the accent ought to falF upon the fourth,
the fixth, the eighth, and the tenth fyllables;
and that if it falls upon the third, the fifth,
the feventh, or the ninth fyllables, it fpoils the
verfe.

In Englifh, if the accent falls upon any of the
above-mentioned odd fyllables, it equally fpoils
the verfe.

Bov^'d their fliff necks, loaden witk ftorm/ blafts.

Though a line of Milton has not the ordi-
nary mov^sment of an Englilh Heroic Verfe,
the accent flails upon the third and fifth fyl-
lables.

la

t<2 OP Oi^RtAlN fiNCilSH

Eft Italka frequently, and in EngfHti Ibro^
tknesi an aceont is with great grace thrown up<m
the firft fyikble i in which cafe it feldom hap-
pens that any otfa^r fjllable is aeeented before
tiStefottith:

f bft io th<6 Mds i ttj the fykat fiiaini.

Both in Englifh and in Italian the fecond
fyUable may be accented with great grace, and
it generally is fo when the firft fylUble is bo(
accented :

E in van Finferno a^ liu s^oppofe ; e in vano
S* armo d* jljta^ e di Libia ilpopol mifio^ &c*

Let tt», fi&ce life can little mcve fuppljr
Than juft to look about us, tad to die^ ka*

Both in Bngliih and in Italian Verfe> an ao
cent, though it muft never be mifpilaGed, may
fome times be omitted with great grace. la the
laft of the above-quoted Engliflx Verfes there is
no accent upon the eighth fyUable ; the conjuQc-
tion and not admitting of any. In the foUowiiif
Italian Verfe there is no accent upon the fixth
fyUable:

Mufay t% chi dt caduchi alloti, &c.

The prepofition di will as little admit o{ an
accent as the coDJun^lioQ and* In this cafe,
however, when the even fyUable is not acceot«d,

neither

ANb ITALIAJT VfeksES. tSj

neither of the odd fylhbles immediately teforc or
behind it muft be accented'.

Neither in Englifti nor in Italian can two ac^
cents running be omitted;

It muft be obferved, that in Italian there ar*
two accents, the grave and the acute : the grave
accent is always marked by a flight ftroke over
the fy liable to which it belongs ; the acute ac-
cent Mas no mark.

The Engliih language knows no diflin£iioa
between the grave and the acute accents^

The fame author obferves, that in the Italian
Verfe the Paufe, or what the grammarians call
the Cefura, may with propriety be introduced
after either the third, the fourth, the fifth, the
fixth, or the feventh fylhbles. The like obfer-
vations have been made by feveral different wri*
ters upon the Englifh Heroic Verfe. Dobie ad^
mires particularly the verfe in which there are
two paufes ; one after the fif^b, and another aftec
the ninth fyliable. The eseample he gives is from
Petrarch :

Nfil dokt.tempo.de ta primtLeUide^ &c.

In this verfe, the fecond paufe, which he fays
comes after the ninth fyllable,. in reality comes
in between the- two vowels, which, in the

Italian

e«4 OF CERTAIN ENGLISH

Italian way of counting fyllables^ tompofc the
ninth fyllablc. It may be doubtful, therefore)
whether this paufe may not be confidered as
coming after the eighth fyllable. I do not
recoiled any good Englilh Verfe in which the
paufe comes in after the ninth fyllablc. Wc
have many in which it comes in after the
eighth :

Yet oft, before Ki^ in&ht tjet, wbuld tun, &e»

In which verfe there are two paufes; one
after the fecond, and the other after the
eighth fyllablc. I have obferved many Ju-
lian Verfes in which the paufe comes after the
fecond fyllable.

Both the Engliflx and the Italian Heroic
Verfe, peiiiaps, are not fo properly compofed
of a certain number of fyllables, which vary
according to the nature of the rhyme ; as of
a certain number of intervals, (of five inva-
riably,) each of which is equal in length, or
time, to two ordinary diftin£l fyllabies, though
it may fometimes contain more, of which the
extraordinary (hortnefs compenfates the extra*
ordinary number, llie clofe frequently of
each of thofe intervals, but always • of every
fecond interval, is marked by a diftinS ac-
cent. This accent may frequently, with great
grace, fall upon the beginning of the firft iQ-
terval; after which, it cannot, without fpoil-

AND ITALIAN VERSES, 9<S^

ing the verfe, fall any where but upon the
clofe of au interval- The fyllable or fyllabl^s
which come after the accent that clofes the fifth
interval are never j^cccnted. They ^lake no dif-
tindl interval, but are confidered as a fort of
excrefcence of the verfe^ and au'e in a planner
counted foi nothings

OP THE

EXTERNAL SENSES,

OF i'Hfe

\

External senses.

X HE Senfes, by which w* perceive eitefnal
objefts, are commonly reckoned Five in Num-
ber; Seeing, Hearings Smelling, Tailing) and
Touching*

Of thefe, the four firft mentioned are each
of them confined to particular parts or organs
of the body ; the Senfe of Seeing is confined to
the Eyes ; that of Hearing to the Ears ; that of
Smelling to the Noftrils 5 and that of Tailing to
the Palate. The Senfe of Touching alone feems
not to be confined to any particular organ, but
to be diffufed through almoft every part of the
body ; if we except the hair and the nails of the
fingers and toes, I believe through every part of
it. I fhall fay a few words concerning each of
thefe Senfes ; beginning with the laft, proceed-
ing backwards in the oppofite order to that in
which they are commonly enumerated.

Of

i^o OF THE EXTJEKNAL SENSES-

Of the Senfi of Touching.

The objefls of Touch always prefent thcm-
fejvps a^ prefliQg ppoo, or aa refiftiiig tb© par-
ticular part of the body which perceives them,
or by which we perceive them. When I lay
my hand upon the table, the table preffes upofl
my hand, or refills the further motion of my
hand, in the fame manner as my hand prei&i
upon tke table. ]^ pr^ffure or refiftance ne-
ceflarily fuppofe^ externality in the thing which
preffes or refifts. The tabk. CQuld not preiii
upon, or refift the further motion of tfxy handp
if it was not e±ternal to my hand. Tfeel it
%?cordingly, as fom^sthing whfclr is not merely
s(n afifeAbn of ipy ha^d, bu^ altogether eKU^roil
to, and independent of my hand* The agreea-
ble, indifSprent, or painful fenfRti^n ^^ preffure>
^K^pordi^g as I happen t^ pfc& hardly or foftIy>
\ fe^t no^ d<M;ibt, ai$ affeiftioas of ray hand ? bu«
the thing wh>ch preffes «ii4 refiita I feel as fomo-
thii^g altogethier different from thQfi^ zjSkSkmh
^ e^tern^ to my h^ndd 9Qd i^ tUtpgethcir iad^**
pendent of it;.

^In moving igjf hapd along the table it ibca
comes, in every direftion, to a place wier«
this preffuxe pr refiftance ceafes. This place we
call the boundary, or end of the table; of which
the extent and figure are determined by the extent

and

OF tHE EXTERNAL SENSES. X'jx

and direaion of the lines or furfaces which cou-
fiitute this bouodary or end.

It is iQ this manner that a man born blind,
tHT who has loft his fight fo early that he has
no remembrance of vifible objefts, may form
the j^oft diftinft Idea of the exte^t ajid figure
of all the di^eTjent parts of his own body,
and of every oth^r tangible objeil which he
has ^Q opportunity of handling and examining.
Whea be lays bis hand upon his foot, as hi^
hand feels the preiFure or refiflance of his foot,
fp his foot feels that of his hand, They are
both e^teri^al to one another, but they are, nei-
ther of them, altogether fo external to him. He
feels in both, and he natprally confiders them
as parts of himfelf, or at leaft as fomething which
bejlong^ to him, and wluch, for his own happi-
nefs and comfort^ it is neceilary that he fliould
take fome care of*

M^hen h^e l^ys his hand i^pon the table,
thou«fh his band feels the preiTure of the table,
the table does not fee}, or at le^ he does not
kxK>w that it feels^ the preflure of his hand.
He feels it therefore as fomething external, not
only to his hand, but to himfelf, as fomething
which makes no part of himfelf, and in the ftate
and condition of which he has not neceffarily
any concern.

T« Wheii

tit: OF THE EXTERNAL 8ENSES^i

When he lays his hand upon the body eitJirf
of another man, or of any other animal, though
he knows, or at leaft may know, that they feel
the preflure of his hand as much as he feels that of
their body : Yet as this feeling is altogether ex-
ternal to him, he frequently gives no attention to
it, and at no time takes any further concern in
it than he is obliged to do by that fellow-feeling
which Nature has, for the ii^ifeft purpofcs, im-
planted in man, not only towards all other men,
but (though no doubt in a much weaker degree)
towards all other animals. Having deftined Mm
to be the governing animal in this little world, it
feems to have been her benevolent intention to
infpire him with fome degree of refpcd, even for
the meaneft and weakeft of his fubjeds^

Thisr power or quality of reiiftance we call
Solidity ; and the thing which poilefles it,, the
Solid Body or Thing. As we feel it as fomething
altogether external to ns, fo we neceflarily con-
ceive it as fomething altogether independent of
ns. We confider itj^ therefore, zs what we all
a Subftance, or as a thing that fubfiiis by itfelf,
and independent of any other thing. Solid and
fubftantial, accordingly, are two words which, in
common language, are confidered either as alto-
gether, or as nearly fynonimous.

Solidity necefTarily fu|>pofes fome degree of ex-
teniion, and that in all the three diredions of
length, breadth^ and thtcknefs. All the folid

bodi€9,

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES* a^j

bodies, of which we have any experience, have
Same degree of fuch bulk or magnitude. It feems
to be eilential to their nature, and without v it, we
cannot evea cpuceive how they ihould be capable
of preflure or refiftance ; the powers by which
they are made known to us, and by which alpne
they are capable of a£ling upp4 our own, find up*
Qu f U other bpdi^s^

Extcnfion, at leaft any fenfible extenfion, fup-
pofes diviiibiUty. The body may be fo hard, that
9ur ftrength ia not fuificient to break it ; \yp flill
fuppofe, however, that if a fufficient force were
applied, it might be fo broken ; and, at any rate,
lye can always, in fancy at lead, imagine it to b?
divided intq two pr jnor^ partj^

Every folid and extended body, if it be nPt in-
finite, (as the univerfe may be conceived to be,)
muft have the fame ihape or figure? or be bounded
by pertain^ lines and furf^ces*

Every fuch body muft likewife be conceived as
capable both of motion and of reft ; both of al-
tering its fituatiqn with regard to other furround-
ing bodies, and of remaining in the fame fituation.
That bodies of fqiall or moderate bulk, are cap,a-
ble of both motion and reft we have conftant e^sc-
perience. Great ma^es, perhaps, are, accord-
ing to the ordinary habits of the imagination, fiip-
pofed to be more fitted for reft than foe motion.^
Prc^vided a fufixcient force could be applied, how-

ever^,

^^. OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

ever, we have no difficulty in eonceiving that the
greateft and moft unwieldy ntaiTta might' be made
capable of motion. Philofophy teaches us, (and
by reafons too to whieh it is fcarcely |>offible to
refufe our aflent,) that the earth itfelf, and bodies
much larger than the earth, are not only move-
able, but are at all times actually in motion, and
continually altering their fituation, in rcfpeft to
other furrounding bodies, with a rapidity that al-
moft pafles all human compreheniion. tn the fyf-
tem of the univcrfc, at leaft according to the im-
perfe£l notions which we have hitherto been able
to attain concerning it, the gt-eat difficulty fecrat
to be, not to find the moft enormous mifies ia
motion, but to find the fmalleft particle of matter
that is perfe6ily at reft, with regard to allodier
furrounding bodies.

Thefe four qualities, or attributes of exteijfion,
divifibility, figate, and mobility, or the capacity
of motion or reft, feem ncceflarily involved ia
the idea or conception of a folid fnbftance. They
are, in reality, infeparable from that idea of con-
ception, and the folid fubftance cannot poffibly
be conceived to exift without them. No other
qualities or attributes feem to be involved, in the
fame manner, in this our idei or conception of
folidity. It would, however, be rafti fh)m thence
to conclude that the folid fubftatlce can, as fuch,
poffefs no other qualities or attributes. This very
ralh conclufion, notwithftauding, has been not

only

OF THE EXniNAL SElfSBSi 3(7|

j^&ty djraWD) bm infilled u^on, ki an axiem of
the moft indubitable cenaint j, bjr philofophers of
very (»i>in€Ut re|aitation.

Of tHefe cxtiiriial <ind refifting fubftances, fome
yield eJlfily, knd change their figure, at Ifeaft ife
fome iJegrec, in confequence of the prefflire of
on? hand ; others neither yield por change their
figure, it any reFpeft, in confequence of the ut'-
moil pf^flure which out hand alone is capable of
giving them. The fortftcr We call foft, the ktter
hard, bodies. In fome bodies the parts are fo
very tgfily feparabk, that they not only yipld tb
a very tooderate J^reflbte, but eafily receive thfe
jif effitlg body within them, and without much ri-
fiftance allo\*f it to traverfc their fextent in every
poflible direftion. iThtfe are callfed Fluid, inton-
tradiftin^iop tp tl^ofe of which the pdrts not beiiig
fo eafily feparable, a^e upon that account pecu-
liarly called Solid jBodie^ ; as if tl^ey pofleflTed,
in a moire diftinfl and pcrfciptible manner, the
charaiSleHftical quality of folidity or the power of
refiftince. Water, ^owever, (one of the fluids
with which We arc rndft familiar,) when confirfed
on all fides, fas in a hollow globe of metal, which is
firft filled With it, and then fealed hermetically,)
has been fbund to refift preffure as much as the
hard^ft, or what we commonly call the moft folid
bodies.

Some fluids yield fo very eafily to the flighteft
pr^flbre^ that Vipt>x\ ordinary occafions we are

fcarccly

27^ OF THE EXTEXNAL SENSES.

fcarody fenfible to their refiibmce ; and are upon
that account little di^fed to conceive them as bo-
dies, or as things capable of preffure and reiif-
taoce. There was a time, as we may learn from
Ariftotle and Lucretias, when it was fappofed to
require fome degree of philofophy to demonftrate
that air was a real folid body, or. capable of pr^f-
fure and refiftance. What, in ancient times, and
in vulgar apprehenlions, was fuppofed to be.
doubtful with regard to air, flill continues to be
fo with regard to light, of which the rajs, how-
ever condenfed or concentrated, have never ap-
peared capable of making the finalleft refinance
to the motion of other bodies, the chara6lcriflical
power or quality of what are called bodies, orfolitf
fubftances. Some philofophers accordingly doubts
and fome even deny, that light is a material 0^
corporeal fubftance.

Though all bodies or folid fubftances refill, yet
all thofe with which we are acquainted appear to
be more or lefs compreffiblc, or capable of hav-
ing, without any diminution in the quantity of
their matter, their bulk more or lefe reduced
withia a fmaller fpace than that which they ufually
occupy. An experiment of the Florentine aca-
demy was fuppofed to have dempnftrated that wa-
ter was abfolutely incpmprcffible. The fame ex-
periment, however, having been repeated ^^^
more care and accuracy, it appears, that water,
though it ftrongly refifts comprefEon, ia, how-
ever, when a fufficient force is applied, like all

other

0F THE EXTBRNAL SENSES; i??

pthcr bodies, in fome degree liable to it. Air,
on the (Contrary, by the application of a very .
moderate force, is eafily reducible within a much
fmaller pordou of fpace than that which it ufu-
ally occupies. The condenfing engine, and what
is founded upon it, the wind-gun, fufficiently
demonflrate this : and even without the help of
fuch ingenious and expenfive machines, we may
eafily fatisfy ourfelves of the truth of it, by fqueez-
ing a full-blown bladder of'wl^ich the neck is
well tied.

The hardnefs or foftnefs of bodies, or the
greater or fmaller folrcc with which they refift
any change of Ihape, feems to depend altogether
upon the llfonger or weaker degree of cohefion
with which tl^eir parts arc mutually attraded to
one another^ The greater or fmaller force with
which they refift compreffion may, upon many
occafions, be owing partly to the fame caufe:
but it may likewife be owing to the greater or
fmaller proportion of empty fpace comprehend-
ed within their dimenfions, or intermixed with
the folid parts which compofe them. A body
which comjprehended no empty fpace. within its
dim«nfions, which, through all its part§, was
completely filled with the refitting fubftance, we
are naturally difpofed to conceive as fomething
which would refift, with unconquerable force,
every attempt to reduce it within narrower di-
menfions. If the folid and refifting fubftance,
without moving out of its place, fliould admit

into

«7< or THE EXTERNAL SENSBA

into thd fame plkce andther folid and itfifting
iubftaDCG) it would fronk that moment, in our
apprehenfion, ceafe to b^ a iblid ^nd rcfifting
fubftance^ and would no longer appear to poffeft
thit quality, by which alone it is made known
to US) and which we therefore confider as con-
ftituting its nature and eflence, and as altogether
infeparable from it. Hence oUr notioa of what
has been called impenetrability of matter ; or of
the abfolute impoflibility that two fbiid refiftiog
fubflanccs Ihould occupy the fame place a^ tfa^
fame time.

This do6)rine, which is as old as Leucippus,
D^mocritufi) and Epicurus, was in the laft cen^
tury revived by Qaflendi> and has fm<:e been
adopted by Newton and the far gteater part of
his followers. It may at preient be confidered
as the eftablifced fyftem, or as the fyfienl that
is moft in faihiony and moil approved of by the
greater part of' the philofophers of Europe.
Though it has been oppofed by fcveral puzzling
arguments, drawn frc«n that fpecies of metaphy^
£cs which confounds every thing and explaioi
nothing, it fecms upon the whole to be the moft
fimple, the moft diftind, and the moft cOropre^
heafible account that has yet been given of the
phaenomena which are meant to be explained by
it. I ftiall only obfervc, that whatever fyftem
may be adopted concerning the hardnefs or foft*
nefs, the fluidity or fdidity, the compreffibilitj
or incompreflibility, of the rcfifting fubftance,

the

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSBSi 97;^

t^e eertaint^r of our diftin£i fettfe and feeling of
its Externality^ or of its entire independency
upon the organ which perceives it, or by whicl^
we perceive it, cannot in the ftnalleft degree bo
affe6ted by any fnch fyftcm, I Ihall not there-
fore attempt to give any further account of fuch
f3rfteinsw

Heat and cold being felt by alrtioft every pari
of the haman body^ have commonly been rank^
ed along with folidity and refiAance, aihong th^
qualities which are the objedis of Touch. It
f^ Dot> hoiyever, I thinks in our language pro^*
per: to fay that we touch, but that ive feel> th#
qualities uf beat and cold. The word faling^
though in many cafes \^e ufe it as fynonimotis to
iouching, has, however, a pauch Inore extenfiv^
fignification, and is frequently employed to de-
note our internal) as well as out elteirna], affec-
tions. We feel hunger and thirft, we feel joy
and forrow, we feel k>ve and hatred.

Heat and cold, in reality, though they may
frequently be perceived by the fame parts of the
httoian body, conAitute an order of fenfations
altogether different from thofe which are the
proper objefls of Touch, They are naturally
felt, not as prefiing upon the organ, but as ia
the organ. What we feel while we ftand in the
funfhine during a hot, or in the (hade during a
frofly,,day, is evidently felt, not as prefiing up-
on the body, but as in the body. It does not

necefTarily,

1^ Op the external senses,

neceflarily fuggeft the prefence of any external
objeft. It is a fcnfation which neither does nor
can e:s:ift any where but either in the organ
which feels it, or in the unknown principle of
perception, whatever that may be, which feck
in that organ, or by means of tha( orgaj[i. When
we lay our hand upon a table, which is either
heated or cooled a good d^al beyond the adual
temperature of our hand, we have two diftinft
pierceptions : firft, that of the folid or refiflbg
table, which is neceflarily felt as fomething ei-
temal to, and independent of the hand which
feels it : and fecondly, that of the heat or ccdd,
which by the contad of the table is excited in
our hand, and which is naturally felt as nowhere
but in our hand, or in the principle of percepi
tion which feels ja our hand.

But though the fenfations of heat and cold
do not neceflarily fuggeft the prefence of any
external objeft, we foon learn from experience
that they are commonly excited by fome fuch
ohjeSt ; fometimes by the temperature of fome
external body immediately in conta€l with our
own body, and fometimes by Ibme body at ei-
ther a moderate or a great diftance from us; as
by the fire in a chamber, or by the fun in a
Summer^s day. By the frequency and unifor-
mity of this experience, by the cuftom and ha*
bit of thought which that frequency and uni-
formity neceflarily occaiion, the Internal Senfa-
tion, and the External Caufe of that Senfation,

come

of THE EXTERNAL SENSE! af«t

I

come in our canception to be fo ftridlly con-
nefted, that in our ordinary and carelefs way
of thinking, we are apt to confider them as al-
moft one and the fame thing, and therefore de-
note them by one and the fame word. The
confuiion, however, is in this cafe more in the
word than in the thought; for in reality we ftill
retain fome notion of the diftinaion, though
we do not always evolve it with that accuracy
which a very flight degree of attention might
enable us to do. When we move our hand,
for example, along the furface of a very hot ot
of a very cold table, though we fay that the ta-
ble is hot or cold in every part of it, we never
mean that, in any part of it, it feels the fenfa-
tions either of heat or of cold, but that in every
Jjart of it, it poffeffes the power of exciting one
or other of thofe fenfations in our' bodies* The
philofophers who have taken fo much pains to
prove that there is no heat in the fire, meaning
that the fenfation or feeling of heat is not in the
fire, have laboured to refute an opinion which the
mofl ignorant of mankind never entertained.
But the fame word beings in common language,
employed to figriify both the fenfation aild the
power of exciting that fenfation, they, without
knowing it perhaps, or intending it, have taken,
advantage of this ambiguity, and have triumphed
in their own fuperiority, when by irrcfiftible ar-
guments they eftabliflx an opinion which, in
words indeed, " is diametrically oppofite to the
mofl obvious judgments of mankind, but which

in

98ft OF THB EXTERNAL SENSES.

ID reality U per&dly agreeable to ihok judg-
^umts.

()/ fie Senfe o/" Tasting.

When we tafte any folid or liquid fubdance,
Ve have always two diftinft perceptions; firft,
that of the folid or liquid body, which is natu-
rally felt as preffing upon, and therefore as ex-
ternal to, and independent of, the organ which
feels it; and feconcjly, that of the panicular
taOe, relifli, or favour which it excites in the
palate or organ of Tailing, and which is natu-
rally felt, not as preffing upon, as external to,
or as independent of, th^t organ ; but as altoge-
ther in the organ, aad nowhere biit in the or-
gan, or in the principle of perceptioa which
feels in that organ. When we fay that the food
which we eat has an agreeable or difagreeable
tafte in every part of it, we do not thereby mean
that it has the feeling or fenfatioa of tafte in
any part of it, but that in every part of it, it has
the power of exciting that feeling or fenfaiion
in our palates. Though in this cafe we denote
by th,e fame word (in thq fame manner, and for
the fame rcafou, as in the cafe of heat and cold)
both the fenfatioa and the power of exciting
that fenfation, this ambiguity of language mif-
leads the natural judgments of m^nl^ind in the
one cafe as little as in tlie other- Nobody ever

fajacics

QP THE 5XTiRNAI, 8EN6E$, alj

fancies that our food feels its own agreeable or
difagreeable t^ile.

Of the Senfe of Smelling.

Every fmell or odour is naturallfy felt as ia the
tioftrils ; not as preffing upon or refifting the or-
gan, not as in any refpe£l external to, or inde-
pendent of, the organ, but as altogether in the
organ, ^and nowhere elfe biit in the organ, or in
the principle of perception which feels in that or-
gan. We foon learn from experience, however,
that this fenfation is commonly excited by fome
external bodyj by a flower, for example, of
which the abfence removes, and, the prefcnce
brings back, the fenfation. This external body
we confider as the caufe of this fenfation, and we
denominate by the fame words both the fenfation
and the power by which the e:Scternal body pro-
duces this fenfation. But when we fay that the
fmell is in the flower, we do not thereby mean
that the flower itfelf has any feeling of the fenfa-
tion which we feel ; but that it has the power of
exciting this fenfation in our nofl:riIs, or in the
principle of perception which feels in our noftril?.
Though the fenfation, and the power by which it
is excited, are thus denoted by the fame word,
this ambiguity of language mifteads, in this cafe,
the natural judgments pf mankind a^ little as in
the two preceding.

Of

1*4 OF THE EXTERNAL SEliiS^i

Of the Senfc o/* Hearing:

Every found is naturally felt as in the Ear,
the organ of Hearing. Sound is not naturally felt
as refilling or prefling upon the organ, or as in
any refpeft external to, or independent of, the
organ. We naturally feel it as an affeflion of our
Ear, as fomething which is altogether in our Ear,
and no where but in our Ear, or in the principle
of perception which feels in our Ear. We foon
learn from experience, indeed, that the fenfation
is frequently excited by bodies at a confidera-
ble diftance from us; often at a much great-
er diftance than thofe ever are which excite the
fenfation of Smelling. We learn too from experi-
ence, that this found or fenfation in our Ears re-^
ceives different modifications, according to the
diftance and diredion of the body which originally
caufes it. The fenfation is ftronger, the found is
louder, when that body is near. The fenfation is
weaker, the found is lower, when the body is at
a diftance. 'The found, or fenfation, too under-
goes fome Variation according as the body is plac-
ed on the right hand or on the left, before or be-
hind us. In common language we frequently fay,
that the found feems to come from a great of from
a imall diftance, from the right hand or from the
left, before or behind u^. In comrhon language
we frequently fay, that the found feems to come
from a great or from a fmall diftance, from the

'' right

O* THE EXTERNAL SEl^SES* a8j

Tight h^nd or from the left, from before or from
behind us. We frequently fay too that we hear
a found at a great or a fmall diflance, on our right
hand or on our left. The real found, however,
the fenfation in our ear> cto never be heard or
felt a^y where but in 6ur ear, it ean never change
its place, it is incapable of motion, and can come,
therefore, neither from the right nor from the left,
neither from before nor from behind us. The Ear
can feel ^r hear no where but where it is, and can-
not ftretch out its powers of perception, either
to a^eat or to a fmall diflance, either to the right
or to the left. By all fuch phrafes we in reality
mean nothing but to exprefs our opinion concern*
ing either the diftance, or the dire£lion of the
body*, which excites the ftofation of found. Whea
we fay that the fou^d is in the bell, we do not
mean that the bell hears its own found, or that any
thing like our fenfation is in the bell, but that it
poflefles the power of exciting that fenfation in
our organ of hearing. Though in this, as well as
in fome other cafes, we exprefs by the fame
word, both the Senfation, and the Power of ex-
citing that Senfation ; this ambiguity of language
occaiions fcarce any confufion in the thought,
and when the different meanings of the word are
properly diflinguifhed, the opinions of the vulgar
Jand thofe of the philofopher, though apparently
oppofite, turn out to be exaflly th^ fame.

Thefe four clafTes of fecondary qualities, as
philofophers have called them, or to fpeak mord

U properly.

ii4 OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

J)roperly, thefc four clailes of Senfaiions ; Heat
and Cold, Taftc, Smell, and Sound ; being felt,.
Hot as refifiing or prefiing upon the organ ; bat as
in the organ, are not naturally perceived as exter-
nal and independant fubfiances ; or eivcn as qua-
lities of fuch fubftances ; but as mere affeSiont
Df the organ, and what can exift nowhere but
ill the organ.

They do not poflefs, nor can we even conceive
them as capable of polTeifing, any one of the qua-
lities, which we coniider as efTential to, and in-
feparable from, the external folid and independ*
ant fubilances^

yirfi, they have no eltenfion. They are nei-
ther long nor Ihort ; they are neither broad nor
narrow j they are neither deep nor (hallow- The
bodies which excite them, the fpaces within which
they may be perceived, may poflefs any of thofe
dimenfions; but the Senfations themfelves can
poflefs none of them. When we fay of a Note in
Muiic, that it is long or ihort, we mean that it is
fo in point of duration. In point of extenfion we
cannot even conceive^ that it Ihould be cither
the one or the other*

Secondly, Thofe Senfations have no figure.
They are neither round nor fquare, though the
bodies which excite them, though the fpaces with-
in which they may be perceived, may be eiiicr the
one or the other.

Thirdly;

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES; iff

Thirdly, Thofe Scnfations are incapable of mo*
tion. The bodies which excite them may be mor-
^d to tf greater ot to a fmaller diftance. The Sen-
fatioD6 become fainter in the one tafe, and ftron-*
ger in the other, Thofe bodies may change theiJ?
di region with regard to the organ of Senfation.
If the change be confiderabie, the Senfations un-
dergo fome fenfiHe variation in confequence of it.
But ftill we never afctibe motion to the Senfations.
Even when the perfon who feels any of thofe Sen*
fations, and ronfequently the organ by which he
feels them, changes his lituation, we never, even
in this cafe, fay, that the Senfation moves, or is
flioved- Ij feems to exift always, where alone
it is capable of exifting, in the organ which feels
it. We never even afcribe to thofe Senfations the
attribute of reft ; becaufe we never fay that any
thing is at reft, unlefs we fuppofe it capable of
fiiotion. We never fay that any thing does not
change its fituation with regard to othvf things,
tinlcfs we fuppofe it capable of changing that fitu-
ation^

Fourthly, Thofe Senfations, as they have no
«xtenfion, fo they can have no divilibility. Wc
cannot even conceive that a degree of Heat ot
Cold, that a Smell, a Tafte, or a Sound, ftiould
be divided (in the fame manner as the folid and
extended fubftance may be divided) into two
halves, or into four quarters, or into any other
number of parts.

V « But

%H OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES;

But though all thefe Senfationd are equally
iQcapable of divifion ; there are three of them^
Tafte, Smell) and Sound ; ivhich feem capable
of a certain compofition aud decoEDpoiition.
A fkilful cook will, by his tafle, pferhaps,
fometimes diflinguifh the different ingredients,
ivhich enter into the compofition of a new
iaucei and of which the fimple taftes tnake up
the compound one of the fauce. A fkilftil per-
fumer may, perhaps, fometimes be able to do
the fame thmg with regard to a new Scent. la
a concert of vocal and inflrumental mufic, an
acute and experienced £ar readily diftinguiflies
all the different founds which ftrike upon it
at the fame time, and which may, therefore,
be confidered as making up one compound
found.

Is it by nature, or by experience, that we
learn to diftingnilh betwisen fimple aiid com-
pound Senfations of this kind? I am difpofed
to believe that it is altogether by experience;
and that naturally all Tafles, Smells, and
Sounds^ which affe£k the Orglti of Senfsitioa
at the fame time, are felt as fimple and un«
compounded Senfations* It is altogether by
experience, I think, that we learn to obfcrvc
the different affinities and refemblances which
the compound Senfation bears to the differeDt
fimple ones, which compofe it, and to judg^
that the different caufes, which naturally excite
thofe different fimple Senfations, enter into the

compofitiofi

QF THE EXTERNAL SENSES* 289

f opipofition of that qaufe which excites the co^m-
pounded Qne«

It is fufficiently evident that this compo-
fition and decompofition is altogether diffe-
rent from that union and reparation of parts»
ivhich conftitutes the divifibilitj of folid ex«
fenfion^

The fenfations of Heat and Cold feem in?
capable even of this fpecies of compofition and
decompofition. The Senfations of Heat and
Cold may be ftronger at one \ime and weaker
at another. They may differ in degree, but
•they cannot differ in kind. The Senfations
of Tafte, Smeli, and Sound, frequently differ^
not only in degree, but in kind, They are
Bot only ftronger and weaker, but fome Taftes
sure fweet 9fid fome bitter; fome Smells are
agreeable, and fon^e offenfive; ibme Sounda
ve acute, and fome grave ; and each of thefe
different kinda or qualities too is capable of
an immenCb. variety of different modificati-
ons. It is the combination of fuch .fimple
Senfations, as differ not only in degree but
in kind, which conftitutes the compounded Sen-
fation,

Thefe four cklies of Senfations, therefore,
having none of the qualities which are eflen-
tial to, and infeparable from, the folid, ex-
^rnalj and independent fuhftances which cx^

cit#

999 OP THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

cite them, oaonot be qualities qr modlficatloaa
of thofe fubftanccs. In reality wc do not na*
turally confidcr them as fuch; though in the
way in which we exprefs ourfelvcs on thfe fub-
jed, there is frequently a good deal of am-
biguity and confufion.- When the different
meanings of words, however, are fairly dif*
linguifh'ed, thefe Senfations are, even by the
xnofl ignorant and illiterate, underftood to be^
not the qualities, but merely the effe&s of
the iblid, external, and independant fubftances
upon the feniihle and living organ, or upoa
the principle of perception which feels m that
organ.

Philofopbers, however, have not in general
fuppofed that thofc exciting bodies produce
thofe Senfations immediately, but by the in*
tervention of one, two7 or more intermediate
caufes.

In the Senfation of Tafte, for example, thongh
the exciting body prefles upon the organ of
Senfation, this preffure is not fuppofed to be
the immediate caufe of the Senfation of Tafte.
Certain juices of the exciting body are fup-
pofed to enter the pores of the palate, and
to excite, in the irritable and fenfible fibres
of that organ, certain motions or vibrations,
which produce there the Senfation of Tade.
But how thofe juices ffaould excite fuch mo-
tions, or how fuch motions Ifaould produce,

either

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES. 29^

cither in the organ, or in the principle of
perception which feels in the organ, the Sen-
fation of Tafle; or a Senfation, which not
only does not bear the fmalleft reiemblance to
any motion, but which itfelf feems incapable
of all motion, no philofopher has yet attempt-
ed, nor probably ever will attempt ;o cxplaio

to USt

The Seafations of Heat and Cold, of Smell
tnd Sound, ure frequendy e:!ccited by bodies
at a diftance^; fometimes at a great dift^nces
fropi the orgai^ which feels them* Kut it
is a very aQtient and well-eftabliihed axiom
in metaphyfics^ that nothing can a£l wher#
it is not ; and this axiom, it muft, I thinki
he acknowledged, is at leaft perfe£ily agree-*
able ^9 o\ir natural an4 uf^M habits pf thinkt
ing-

The Sun, the great fouree of both Heat and
J^ight, is at a^ ioimenf^p diftance from us. His
arays, however, (traverfing with inconceivable
rapidity, the immenfity of the intervening tc^
gions,) as they convey the Senfation of Light
to our eyes, fo they convey that of Heat to
all the fenfihle parts of our body. They even
convey the power .of exciting that Senfation
(o all the other bodies that furround us. They,
warm the earth, and air, we fay; that isj
they convey ♦o the earth and the air the
power of exciting that Senfation in our bo^

diei.

^9^ OF THE EXTERNAL SEVSES.

dies; A common fire produces, in the funm,
manner, all the fame effe6is ; though the fpherc
of its adlion is confined withio much narrower
limits.

The odoriferous body, which is generally toa^
ftt fonie di&ance from hs, is fuppofed to a^
upon our '^rgans by means of certain fmall par-
ticles of matter, called Effluvia, which being
fent forth in all poflible dire6liohs, and drawa
into our noftrils by the infpiration of breath-,
ing, produce there the Senfation of SmelL
f The minutenefs of thofe fmall particles of mat^
ter, however, muft furpafs all human compre*
henfion. Inclofe in a gold box, for a few hours,
^ fmall quantity of mulk. Take out the muflc,
and clean the box with foap and water, as care*
fully as it is po0ibk. IiJothing can be fuppofed
to remain in the box, but fuch effluvia as, having,
penetrated into its interior pores, may have ef-
^aped the effeila of thi« cleanfing. The box,
however, \yill retain, the fmell of mufk for Qiany,
1 do not knpw for how many years; and (kefc
effluvia, how minute fo^ver we; may fuppofe them,
muft have had the powers of fuhdividing them-
felves, and of emitting other effluvia of the fame
kind, continually, and without any interxuption,
during fo long a period. The niceft balance,
however, which human art has been able to ib-
vent, will not (how the fmalleft increafe of weight
in the box immediately after it has been thus care*
fully cleaned. .

OP THE EXTERNAL SENSES. 99%

The Senfatioa of Sound is frequently felt at
^ much greater diftance from the founding, than
that of Smell ever is from the odoriferous body/
The vibrations of the founding body, however,
are fuppofed to produce certain correfpondent
vibrations and pulfes in the furro^inding atmo&
phere, which being propagated in all diredlions,
reach our organ of Hearing, and produce there,
the Senfatioii of Sound. There are not many
philofophical do&rines, perhaps, eftablifhed up-
6n a more probable foundation, than that of
the propagation of Sound by means of the pulfes
or vibration3 of the air* The experiment of the
bell, which, in an ezhaufted receiver, produces
jxo fenfible Sound, would alone render this doc«
trine fomewhat more than probable. But this
great probability is ftill further confirmed by the
eomputatioqs of Sir Ifaac Newton, who has
ihown that what is called the velocity of Sound,
or the time which pafTes between the com-
mencement of the aftion of the founding body,
and that of the Senfation in our ear, is perfeft-
ly fuitablei to the velocity with which the pulfes
and vibrations of an elaftic fluid of the fame
^ienfity with the air, are naturally propagated.
Pr. IVanklin has made obje&ions' to this doc<t^
trine, but, I think, without fuccefs«

Such are the intermediate caufes by which phi-
^ofophers have endeavoured to conneft the Sen-
fations in our organs, with the diftant bodies
^hieh excite them* How thofe intermediate.

caufes.

I9t OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

caufes, by the dificrtat motions and vibrati6ns
which they may be fuppofed to excite on our or*
gans, produce there thpfe different Senfations,
^one of which bear the f^ialleft refemblance ta
vibration or motion of any kind, no philofophci*
)ua yet attempted tp explain to ug*

Of the Sinfc of Seeing.

Ph., Berkley, in hia New Theory of Vi-.
£on, one of tl^e fineft examples of philofophical
^alyfis that is to be founds either in our own,
or in any other language, lias explained, fo very
diftin£lly, the nature of the obje^sof Sight ; their
diffimilitude to, as w^l^ as their correfpondcnce
and connexion with thofe of Touch, that X havo
Icarcely any thing to add to what he has alrea-t
dy done. It is only in o^der to render fom^
things, which I fhall have occafion to fay here*
after, intelligible tq fuch readers as may not havo
had an opportunity qf ftudying his book, that |
liave prefumed to treat of the fame fubje^, after
fo great a Mailer. Whatever I ihall fay upon it^
if not diredly borrowed from him, has at leai^
been fu^geft^d by ivhat he has already faid.

That the objeds of Sight are not perceived as
refifting^ or prefling upon the organ which per-
ceives them, is fufficiently obvious. They-can*
not therefore fuggeft^ at leaft in the fame man-
ner*

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSEft 293

net, as the ohjcdis of Touch, the externality and
ixidepcndency of their exiftence,

iWe arc apt, however, to imagine that we fee
objeds at a diftance from u&, and tliat confer
quenily the externality of their cxiftence is im-
mediately perceived by our Sight. But if we
confider that the diftance of any objedl from the
eye, is a line turned endways to it ; and that this
line muil confequently appear to it, but as one
point; we ihall be fenfible that diftance from the
eye cannot be the immediate obje A of Sight, but
that all viiible obje^^s muft naturally be percived
3S dofe upon the organ, or more properly, per«
baps, like all other Senfations, as in the organ
which perceives them. That the objeAs of S^i
are all painted in the bottom of the eye, upon
a membrane called the rttina, pretty much ia
the fame manner as tbe like objeds are painted
in a Camera Obfcura, is well known to whoever
has the flighteft tin&ure of the fcience of Op«
tics ; and the principle of perception, it is pro*
bable, originally pereeives them, as exifting ia
that part of the organ, and nowhere but in that
part of the organ* No Optician, accordingly^
no perfon who has ever beftowed any OKxlerate
degree of attention upon the nature of Viiioo,
has ^ver pretended that diftance from the eye
was the immediate objedl of Sight, How it is
that, by means of our Sight, we learn to judge
of fuch diftances. Opticians have endeavoured
to explain in fevcial different ways. I ihall not^

however.

f 9$ OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES:

however, at prefent, (lop to examine their fyl\
terns.

The obje^fi pf Touct arc folidity, and tbofe
modifications of folidity which we confider aa
eflential to it, and infeparable from it; folid ex«
tenfion, figure^ diviiibility, and mobility.

The obje£l$ of Sight ace colour, and thofei
modifications of colour which, in the fame man-*
Ber, we confider as eflential to it, and infepara-
ble from it ; coloured extenfion, figure, divifibi-
\ityy and mobility. When we open our cjesy
the fenfibk coloured obje^s, which prefent them-
felyes to us, muft all have a certain extenfion^
or muft occupy a pertain portion of the vifible
furface which appears before us. They muft too
have all a certain figure, or muft foe bounded by
certain vifible lines, which mark upon that fur-
face the extent of their refpe£live dimenfions.
Every fenfible portion of this vifible or coloured
€Xteniion muft be conceived as divifible, or aa
feparable into two, three, or mpr? parts. Every
portion too of this vifible or coloured furface
muft be conceived as moveable, or as capable of
changing its fituation, and of aflbming a differ
xent arrangement with regard to the other port
tions of the fame furface.

Colour, the vifible, bears no refemblance to
folidity, the tangible objeA. A man born blind,
or who has loft his Sight fo eai;ly as to have no

remembrance

OF THE EXTEIINAL SENSES* 397

remembrance of vifiblc objefts, can form no
idea or conception of colour. Touch alone can
never help him to it. I have heard, indeed, of
lome perions who had loft their Sight after the
age of manhood, and who had learned to diftin-
guifh, by the Touch alone, the different colours
of cloths or filks, the goods which it happened
to be their bufinefs to deal in. The powers by
which different bodies excite in the organs of
Sight the Senfations of different colours, proba-
bly depend upon fome differcince in the nature,
'x:onfiguration, and arrangement of the parts
Svhich conipofe their refpe&ive furfaces. This
difference may, to a very nice and delicate
touch, make ifome difference in feeling, fuffici-
cnt to enable a perfon, much interefted in the
cafe, to make this diilindion in fome degree,
though probably in a very imperfeft and inac-
curate one. A man born blind might poffibly be
taught to make the fame diftindlions. But though
he might thus be able to name the different co-
lours, which thofe different furfaces reflefted,
though he might thus have fome imperfeft notion
of the remote caufes ofthefe Senfations, he could
have no better idea of the Senfations themfelvcs,
than that other blind man, mentioned by Mr,
!Locke, had, who faid that he imagined the Co-
lour of Scarlet refembled the Sound of a Trum-
pet. A man born deaf may, in the fame maii-
ner, be taught to fpeak articulately. He is taught
how to fhape and difpofe of his organs, fo as to
pronounce each letter, fyllable, and word. But

mil.

t9S OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

fiill, though he may have fome imperfed idea of
the remote caufes of the Sounds which he him«
felf utters^ of the remote caufes of the Senfa-
tious which he himfelf excites in other people;
he can have none of thofe Sounds or Senfationi
themfelves.

If it were poffible, in the fame manner, that
a man could be born without the Senfe of Touch-
ing, that of Seeing could never alone fuggeft to
him the idea of Solidity, or enable him to form
any notion of the external and refilling fubftance.
It is probable, however, not only that no man,
but that no animal was ever born without the
Senfe of Touching, which feems effential tOj
and infeparable from, the nature of animal life
and exiftence. It is unneceflary, therefore, to
throw away any reafoning, or to hazard any
coDJedures, about what might be the effcfts of
what I look upon as altogether an impoffible fup-
pofition. The eye when preffed upon by any
external and folid fubftance, feels, no doubti
that preflure and refiftance, and fuggefls to us
(in the fame manner as every other feeling part
of the body) the external and independent ex-
iftence of that folid fubftance. But in this cafe,
the eye a£ls, not as the organ of Sight, but ai
an organ of Touch ; for the eye poffefles the
Senfe of Touching in common with almoft all
the other parts of the body.

The

Of HHE EXtEtlNAt SENSSSl ^99

The extenfion> figure^ divifibility, and mobi-
lity of Colour, the fole obje€k of Sight, though»
on account pf their correfpondcnce and connec«
tion with the exteniion, figulrc, divifibility, and
mobility of Solidity, they are called by the fame
tiame, yet feem to bear no fort of refemblanco
to their namefakes* As Colour and Solidity bear
no fort of refemblanee to one another, fo neither
can their refpeflive modifications. Dr. Berkley
veryjuftly obferves, that though we can conceive
cither a coloured or a folid line to be prolonged
indefinitely, yet we cannot conceive the one to
be added to the othen We cannot, even in
imagination, conceive an objeft of Touch to be
prolonged into an objeil of Sight, or an objeft
of Sight into an objeft of Touch. The objeds
of Sight and thofe of Touch conftitute two
words, which, though they have a moft impor-
tant correfpondence and connexion with one
aiiother, bear no fort of refemblanee to one ano-
ther. The tangible world, as well as all the dif-
ferent parts which compofe it, has three^ dimen-
fions. Length, Breadth, and Depth. The vifi-
blc world, as well as all the different parts which
compofe it, has only two. Length and Breadth.
It prefcnts to us only a plain or furface, which,
by certain ihadcs and combinations of Colour,
fuggefts and reprefents to us (in the fame man-
ner as a pi6lure does) certain tangible objcfts
which have no Colour, and which therefore can
bear no refemblanee to thofe ftiades and combi-
nations of Colour. Thofe ihades and combina-
tions

io^ OF THE EXTERNAL SENSED

tiona fiiggeft thofe different tangible objefti as
at different diftances, according to certain rules
of Perfpeftivc, which it is, perhaps, not ve^
*afy to fay how it is that we learn, whether by
fome particular in{lin£l, or by feme application
of either reafon or experience^ which has be-
come fo perfectly habitual to us, that We are
fcarcely feniible when we make ufe bf it.

The diftinanefs of this PerfpeAi^, the pre-
cifion and accuracy with which, by means of it,
we are capable of judging concerning the diftancc
of different tangible objeds, is greater or lefs,
exadly ia proportion as this importance to us.
We can judge of the diftance of near objefts, of
the chairs and tables, for exaoiple, in the cham-
ber where we are fitting, with the moft pcrfeft
precifion and accuracy; and if in broad day-
light we ever ftumble over any of them^ it rauft
be, not from any error in the Sight, but froai
fome defedl in the attention. The precifion and
accuracy of our judgment concerning fuch near
objeds are of the utmoft importance to us, and
conftitute the great advantage which a man who
fees has over one who is unfortunately blind-
As the diftance increafes, the diftinftnefs of this
Perfpeftive, the precifion and accuracy of our
judgment gradi^ially diminifti. Of the tangible
objefts which are even at the moderate diftance
of one, two, or three miles from the eye, we
are frequently at a lofs to determine which is
neareft, and which remoteft. . It is foldom of

much

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES. jot

much importance to us to judge with precifioa
coocerning the fituation of the tangible objedls
%vhich are even at this moderate diftance. As
the diftance increafes, our judgments become
more and more uncertain; and at a very great'
diftance, fuch as that of the fixed ftars, it be-
comes altogether uncertain. The moft precife
knowledge of the relative fituation of fuch ob-
jcSLs could be of no other ufc to us than to fatis-
f j the moft unncceffary curiofity.

The diftances at which different men can by
Sight diftiaguiftb» with fome degree of precifion,
the iituation of the tangible objedls which the vi-
fible ones reprefent, is very different ; and this
difference, though it, no doubt, may fometimes'
depend upon fome difference in the original con-
figuration of their eyes, yet feems frequently to'
arife altogether from the different cuftoms and
habits which their refpeftive occupations have
led them to contraft. Men of letters, who live
much in their xlofets, and have feldom occafioa
to look at very diftant obje6ls, are feldom far-
fighted- Mariners, on the contrary, almoft al-
ways are ; thofe efpccially who have made many
diftant voyages, in which they have been the
greater part of their time out of fight of land, and
have in day-light been conftantly looking out to-
wards the horizon for the appearance of fome
fiiip, or of fome diftant fliore. It often aftonifli*
es a land-man to obferve with what pfecifion a
failor can diftinguifti in the Offing, not only the

X appearance

pt 6F the external SEMSEfl.

appearance of a fhip, which is altogether invifi-'
ble to the land-oian, but the number of her
mails, the dineftion of her eourfe, and the rate
of her failing. If (he is a Aip of hid acqnain-
tfence, he frequently can tell her name, before tbe
knd-man has been able to difeorer even the ap-
pearance of a &ip»

' Vifible objefts. Colour, and all its different
modifications, are in themfelvcs mere fhadows or
piftures, which feem to float, as it were, before
th^i organ of Sight. In themfclves, and indepen-
dent af connexion with the tangible objeds
which they rcprefent, they are of no importance
to us> «id can eileatially naither benefit us nor
hurt us-. Even while we fee them we are feldooi
thinking of them. Even when we appear to be
looking at thorn with the greateft earneftnefs, our
whole attention is frequently employed, not up-
on them, but upon the tangible objeds reprefent*
ed by theou

It is becaufe almdft our whole dttentk>n is em-
ployed, not upon the vifible and reprefenting^.
but upon the tangible and reprefented obje&s,
that in our imaginations we are apt to aferibe ta
the former a degree of magnitude which doea
not belong to them, but which belongs altogether
to the latter^ * If yon ibut one eye, and hold im-
mediately before the other a fmall circle of plain
glafs, of not more than half an inth in diame*-
ter, you may fi^ through that circle the moA eiE-

tenfive

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES. jtJj

teniive profpe6ts ; lawns and woods, and arms
of the fea, and diftant mountains. You are apt
to imagine that the Landfcape which is thus pre-
fented to you, that the'vifible Pi^lure which you
thus fee, is immenfrfy great and extenfive. The
tangible objefts which this vifible Pi&nre repfe-
fents, undoubtedly are fo. But the vifible PiftAre
•which reprefents them can be no greater than (he
little vifible circle through which you fee it. If
while you are looking through this circle, you could
conceive a fairy hand and a fairy peiicil to come
between your eye and the gkfs, that pencil could
delineate upon that little glafs the outline of all
thofe extenfive lawns and ^Voods, and arms of
the fea, and diftant mountains, in the full and
cxadl dtmenfions with which they are really feea
by the eye.

Every vifible objeft which covers from the eye
any other vifible object, muft appear at leaft as
large as that other vifible objeft. It muft occu-
py it leaft an equal portion of that vifible plain
or futface which is at that time prefented to the
ey<*. Opticians accordingly tell us, that all the
vifible objefts which are feen linder equal angles
muft to the eye appear equally large. But the
vifible objeft, which covers from the eye any
other vifible objeft, muft neceffarily be feen un-
der angles at leaft equally large as thofe under
which that other objeft is feen, Wheti I hold
tip my finger, however, before my eye, it ap-
pears to cover the greater part of the vifible

X z chamber

3^4 OF THE EXTERNAL SBN8£S.

chamber in vi^hich I am fitting. It Ihould there*
fore appear as large as the greater part of that
vifible chamber. But becaufe I know that the
tangible finger bears but a very fmall proportion
to the greater part of the tangible chamber, I
am apt to fancy that the vifible finger bears but
a like proportion to the. greater part of the vifi-
ble chaniber*. My judgment correfls my eye-
fight, and, in my fancy, reduces the vifible ob-
jed, which reprefents the little tangible one, be-
low its real vifible dimenfions ; and, 6n the con-
trary, it augments the vifible objeft which re-
prefents the great tangible one a good deal be-
yond thofe dimenfions. My attention being ge-
nerally altogether occupied about the tangible
and reprefbnted, and iiot at all about the vifible
and reprefenting obje6ls, my carelefs fancy be-
llows upon the latter a proportion which does
not in the leaft belong to them, but which be-
longs altogether to the former*

it is becaufe the vifible ohjcGt which covert
any other vifible objeft muft always appear at
leaft as large as that other objed, that Op
ticians tell us that the fphere of our vifion ap*
pears to the eye always equally large ; and tbat
when we hold our hand before our eye in fuch t
. manner that we fee nothing but the infide of the
hand, we ftill fee precifely th<i fame number ot
vifible points, the fphere of our vifion is ftill
as completely filled, the retina is as entirely cck
vered with the objed which is thus prefen

L

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES- 30/

to it, as wh^i^ we fyrvey the moft ext^nfivc ho-
rizon,

A young gentleman who was born with a ca-
tara£l upon each of his eye^ was, in one thou-
fand feven hundred and twenty-eight, couched
by Mn Chefclden, and by tha,t means fox the
firft time made to fee diftindlly. " Ax, firft, fays
** the operator, he could bear but v^ry little
** Sight, and the things he faw he thought ex-
V trcmely large ; but upon feeing things larger,
** thofe firft fcen he conceived lefs, never being
** able to imagine any Jines beyond the bounds
" he faw ; the rpom he was in, he faid, he knew
" to be but part of the houfe, yet he could not
'* conceiye that the whole hpufe woyld look big-
** ger.'' It was unavoidable that \ie ibould at
firft conceive, that no vifible objeA could be
greater, could prefcnt to his eye a greater num-
ber of vifible points, or could more completely
fill the comprehenfion of an 9rgan, than the
narroweft fphere of his yifion. And when that
fphere came to be enlarged, he ftill could not
conceive that the vifible objeAs which it pre-
fented could be l^i^ger than thofe which he had
firft feen. He muft probably by this time have
been in fome degree habituated to the connec-
tion between vifible and tangible objeds, and
enabled to conceive that vifible objed to be fmall
which reprefented a fmall tangible objed ; to be
great, which reprefented a great one. The great
9bje£ls did not appear to his Sight greater than

the

^o6 OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES,

the fmall ones had done before; but the fmall
ones, which, having filled the' whole fphere of
his vifion, had before appeared as large as poffi-
ble, being now known to represent much fmaller
tangible objedls, fecmed in his eonception to
grow fmaller. He had begun now to employ his
attention more about the tangible and reprefem-
cd, than about the vifible and reprefenting ob-
je£ls ;. and he Was beginning to afcribe to the
latter, the proportions and dimenfions wlucl\
properly belonged altogether to the former.

As we frequently afcribe tp the objefts of Sight
a magnitude and proportion which does not real-
ly belong to them, .but to the objeds of Touch
which they reprefent, fo we likewife afcribe tp
them a fteadinefs oif appearance, which as little
belongs to theip, but which they derive altoge-
ther from their connedion with the fame objefls
of Touch. The chair w^iich now Hands at the
farther end of the, room, I am apt to imagiflc,

, appears to my eye as large as it did when it
flood clofe by me, when it was feen under an-
gles at leaft four times larger than thofe under
which it is feen at prefent, and when it muft
have occupied, at leafl, fixtfseo^ times that por-
tion which it occupies at prefent, of the vifible
plain or furfacc which is now before my eyes.
iSut as I know that the magnitude of the ungi-

^ ble and reprefented chair, the principal obje^ oi
my attention, is the fsime in, both fituations, I
afcribe to the vilible and xeprefenting chiir

OF THE ZXTESCSAL SENSE& ^^

(though now reduced to lefs thaunhe fixtcenth
part of its former dimenfiohs) a lleadinefs of ap-
pearance, which certainly belongs not in any
refpea to it, but altogether to the tangible and re-
prefented one. As we approach to, or-retire frooi^
the tangible obye^l which any vifibleonereprefenta^
ihe vifible objeft gradually augments in the one
cafe, and diminiCbes in the other. To fpeak accu*
rately, it is not the fame vifible object which we fe?
at different diftances, but a fucceflioa of vifible
obje&s, which, though they all refemble one
another, thofe efpecially which follow near after
one another; yet are all really different and difi*
tm&. But as we know that the tangible obje6l
which they reprefent remains always the famC;,
we afcribe to th^m too a famenefs which belongs
altogether to it: and we fancy that we fee the
fame tree at a mile, at half a mile, and at a few
yards diftance. At thofe different difta^ces,
howevfer, the vifible objects are fo very widely
different, that we are fenfible of a change in theijr,
appearance. But ftill, as the tangible objed
which they reprefent remains invariably the fame,
we afcribe a fort of famenefs even to them too.

It has been faid, that no man ever faw the
fame vifible objeA twice ; and this, though, no
doubt, an exaggeration, is, in reality, much lefs
fo than at firft view it appears to be. Though
I am apt to fancy that all the chairs and tables,
and other Uttle pieces of furniture in the room

wherp

308 OF THE EXTEltKAL SENSES.

where I am fitting, appear to my eye always the
fame, yet their appearance is in reality continu-
ally varying, not only according to every varia-
tion in their fituation and diftance with regard
to where I am fitting, bnt according to every,
even the mod infenfible variation in the altitude
of my body, in the movement of my head, or
even in that of my eyes. The perfpeftive dc-
ceflarily varies according to all, even the finall-
eft of thefe variations ; and confequently the
appearance of the objeAs which that perfpec-
tive prefents to me. Obferve what difficulty a
portrait painter finds, in getting the perfon who
fits for his pidure to prefent to him precifely
that view of the countenance from which the
firft outline was drawn. The painter is
fcarce ever completely fatisfied with the fitua-
tion of the face which is prefented to him, and
finds that it is fcarcely ever precifely the fame
with that from which he rapidly fketched the
firft outline. He endeavours, as well as he can,
to correft the difference from memory, from
fancy, and from a fort of art of approximation,
by which he ftrives to exprefs as nearly as he
can, the ordinary effedl of the look, air, and
character of the perfon whofe piAure he is draw-
ing. The perfon who draws from a ftatue,
which is altogether immoveable, feels a difficul-
ty, though, no doubt, in a lefs degree, of the
fame kind. It arifes altogether from the difficul-
ty which he finds in placing bis own eye pr^
cifely in the fame fituation during the M^bole

time

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES. 3^9^

time which he emploj^s in completing his draw-
ing. This difficulty is more than doubled up-
on the painter who draw^ from a living fubje£l.
The ftatue never is the caufe of any variation or
nnfteadinefs in its own appear^nc^*^ The living
fubjed frequently is.

The benevolent pqrpofe of nature in beftow-
ing upon us the fenfe of feeing, is evidently to
inform us concerning the fituation and diftance
of the tangible objedls which fur^-ound us. Up-
on the knowledge of this diftance and ^tuatiou
depends the whole condudl of human lifcj^ iu
the moil trifling as well as in the moft important
tranfa£lions. Even animal motion depends up-
on it ; and without it we could neither movie,
nor even fit ftill, with complete fecurity. The
objects of fight, as Dr. Berkley finely obferves,
conftitute a fort of language which the Au-
thor of Nature addrefifes to pur eyes, and
by which he informs ys of many things,
which it is of the utmoft importance to us to
know. As, in common language, the words or
founds bear no refemblance to the things which
they denote, fo in this other language, the vifi-
ble objefis bear no fort of refemblance to the
tangible obje£l which they reprefent, and
of whofe relative fituation, with regard both
to ourfelves and to one another, they inform
us. ' "

He

^10 or THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

He acknowledges, however, that though fcarce-
\y any word be by nature better fitted to cxprcfi
one meaning than ^y other meaning, yet that cer-
tain viiible objeAs are better fitted than others to
reprefent certain tangible objeAs. A vifible fquarc,
for example, is better fitted than a vifible circle
to reprefent a tangible fquare. There is, perhaps,
ilridly fpeaking, no fuch thing as either a viiible
cube, or a vifible globe, the objefis of fight be*
ing all naturally prefented to the eye as upon one
furface. ' But fiill there are certain combinations
of colours which are fitted to reprefent to the eye,
both the near and the diflant, both the advancing
and the receding lines, angles, and furfaces of
the tangible cube ; and there are others fitted to
reprefent, in the fame manner, both the near and
the receding furface of the tangible globe. The
combination which reprefents the tangible cube,
would not be fit to reprefont the tangible globe;
and that which reprefents the tangible globe,
would not be fit to reprefent the tan^ble cube.
Though there may, therefore, be no refemUance
between vifible and tangible objefls, there fecms
to be fome affinity or correfpondence between
them fufficient to make each vifible objcft fitter
to reprefent a certain precife tangible objed than
any other tangible objedl. But the greater part
of words feem to have no fort of affinity or corref-
pondence with the meanings or ideas which they
cxprefs ; and if cuftom had fo ordered it, they
might with equal propriety have been made ufe of
to exprefs any oth^r meaning or ideas*

Dr.

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES. 511

Dr. Berkley, with that happinefs of illuftratiou
which fcarcely ever defprts him, remarks, that
this in reality is no more than what happens in
common language ; and that though letters bear
DO fort of refemblance to the words whjich they de-
mote, yet that the fame combination, of letters
-jivhich reprefents one rwoyd, would not always be
fit to reprefent aqother; and that each. word is
always befl reprefejated by its own proper com^
bination of letters. The companfon, however,
it muft be obferved, is here totally changed. The
coaneaiou between vifible and tangibly objefts
was firft illuftrated by comparing it with that be^
tween fpoken language and the meanings or idea^
which fpoken language fuggefts to us ; and it i^
liow illuftrated, by the cQtxQeftion between written
lajiguagc and fpoken Unguage, which is altoge-
ther different. Even this fccond illuftration, be^
fides, will not apply perfedlly to the cafe. When
cuftom, indeed, has perfe<Slly afcertained the
powers of each letter ; when it has afcertained,
for example, that the firft letter of the alphabet
Ihall always reprefent fuch a found, and the fc-
cond letter fuch another found ; each word comes
then to be more properly reprefented by one cer-
tain combination of written letters or charaders,
than it could be by any other combination. But
ft ill the charaders themfelves are altogether
arbitrary, and have no fort of affinity or corref-
pondence with the articulate founds whi^h they
denote. The charader which marks the firft l^t-
t^x of the alphabet, foy cxamj^^ ^ cuftom hacl

lb

SM OF THE EXTERNA£-SENSES,

fo ordered it, might, with perfeft propriety,
have been made ufc of to exprefs the found
which we i^ow annex to the fecond, and the cha-
rader of the fecond to exprefs that which we now
annex to the fir(Vt But the yifibl^ charaders
which reprefent to our eyes the tangible globe,
could not fo well reprcfent the tangible cube ; nor
could thofe which reprcfent the tan^ble cube,
fo properly reprefent the t^tngiblc globe, Tterc
is evidently, therefore, a certain affinity and cor-
refponden^e bet^^een each vifible objeA J^nd the
precife tangible objed reprefpnted by it, much
fuperior to what tak^s place either between writ-
ten and fpoken language, or between fpokcn lan-
guage and the ideas or meanings which it fuggefts.
The language which nature addrejTes to our eyes,
has evident^ a fjtnefe of reprefentation, an apti-
tude for fignifying the precife things which it de-
notes, much fuperior to that of any of the artifi-
cial languages which human art aiid ingenuity
h^ve ever been able to iAventt

That this affinity and correfpondence, how-
ever, between vifible and tangible obje&s could
not alone, and without the affiftance of obfcrvati-
on and experience, teach us, by any effort of
reafon, to infer what was the precife tangible ob-
jcSt which each vifible one reprcfipnted, if it is not
fufficiently evident frpm what has been already
faid, it muft be completely fo from the remarks
of Mr. Chefelden upon the young gentleman
above-mentioned, whom he had couched for a

' » cataract*

OF THE EXTERNAL SEN«S-' 313

cataraft. " Though we fay of this ^gentleman,
" that he was blind," obferVes Mn Chefelden,
^^ as we do of all people who have ripe catarads ;
" yet they are never fo blind from that caufe but
" that they can difcern day frotti night ; and for
*^ the moft part, in a flrong light, diftinguifh
•' black; white, and fcarietj but they cannot per-
" ceive the fhape of any thing -; for the light by
" which thefe perceptions arc roade^ being let in
" obliquely through the aqueous humour, or the
** anterior furface of the cryftalline, (by which the
" rays calinot be brought into a focu^ Upon the.
'" retina,) they can difcern in no other manner
" than a found eye can through a glafs of broken
" jelly, where a great variety of furfaces fo difj .
" ferently refraift the light, that the feveral dif-
" tinft pencils of rays cannot be coUedled by the
*' eye into their proper foci ; wherefore the ihape
** of an objeil in fuch a cafe cannot be at all dif*
' earned, though the colour may : and thus it was
" with this young gentleman, who, though he
" knew thofe x:olotirs afunder in a good light,
" yet when he faw them after he was couched^
" the faint ideas be had of them before were not
*' fufScient for him to know them by afterwards ;
" and therefore he did not think them the fame
" which he had before known by thofe names/'
This young gentleman, therefore, had fome ad-
vantage over one who from a ftate of total blind-
nefs had been made for the firft time to fee. He
had fome imperfed notion of the diftinftion of co-
lours; and he muft have known that thofe colours

had

SI4 OKFVELE £XT£RNA£ SENSES.

4

had fome fort of conne6lioa with the tingibk 6b-
jeAs which he had been accuftomed to feel. But
had he emet^ed from total bliodnefs, he could
have learnt this conne6tioQ^nly from a very long
courfe of obfervation knd experience- How little?
this a^vanta^e availed hirta, however, we may
learn partly from the paflages of Mr. Chefelden's
narrative, already quotedi and ftill more from
the following 1

•* When he firft faw/^ fays that ingenious ope-
rator, " he was fo far from making any judgment
** about diftances, that he thought all 6bje£ld
•* whatever touched his eyes (as he exprcfTed it)
*^ as what he felt did his ikin ; and thought no ob-
*^je<38 fd agreeable as tbofe which were fmooth
•* and regular, though be coiild form no judg-
*^ ment of their ihape, orguefs what it was in any
**'obje6l that was pleafing to him- He knew not
^ the fhape of any thing, nor any one thing from
*• another, however different in fhape or magni-
" tude ; but upon being told what things were,
•' whofe form he before knew from feeling, be
** would carefully obferve, that he might know
*• them again ; but having too many objefts to
** learn at once, he forgot many of them ; and (as
"hefaid) at firft learned to know, and again for-
•* got a thoufand things in a day. One particular
^ only (though it may appear trifling) I will re-
late : Having often forgot which was the cat,
« and which the dog, he was aftiamed to a(k ;
<« but catching the cat (which he knew by feeling)

" he

<€

OF THE EXTERNAL SENStS-. ^f$

•' he was obfervcd to look at her ftedfaftfya wi<f
•*^then fetting her down, faid. So, pufs ! J (half
** know you another time."

Whefi the young gemlefti^Q faid, that the olv-
jc6ls whteh he few touched hi& eyes, he certainVf
could not mean that they prelFed upon or refifted
his eyes ; for the objefts of fight never aft upon
the organ in any way that refembles preffure <»
refinance* He could mean no more than that tlkey
were clofe upon his eyes, or, to fpeak more p«K
perly, perhaps, that they were in his eyes. A
deaf man, who was made all at once to hear,
might in the fame manner naturally enough fay^
that the founds which he heard touched his ears^
meaning that he felt them as clofe upon his ea)rs>
or, to fpeak, perhaps, more pix)periy, ^ in his
cars.

Mn Chefelden adds afterwards : " We thought
** he foon knew what pictures reprefented which
** were Ihewed to him, but we found afterwards
** we were miftaken ; for about two months after
•^ he was couched, he difcov^red at once they
** reprefented foUd bodies, when, to that time,
" he confidered them only as party-colpured
•* planes, or furfaces diverfified with variety of
" paints ; but even then he was no lefs furprifed>
*' expefting the pidures would feel like the things
*^ they reprefented, and was amazed when he
*^ found thofe parts, which by their liglu and
^ fhadow appeared now round and uneven, felt

^^ only

ii6 OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

^^ Only flat and like the reft ; and aiked which \ns
" the lying fcnfe, feeling or feeing ?"

Painting, though, by combination of light and
Ihade fiinilat tothofe which Nature makes ufe of
in the, irifible objeds which ih$ prefent^ to otir
eyedj it endeavours to imitdte thofeobjeds; yet
it never has been able to equal. the perfpedive df
Nature^ or to give to its productions that force
and diftindnefs of relief and projeAion which
Nature beftows upon hers. Whfcn the yoting gen-
tleman was juft beginning to underftand the flrong
and diftind perfpedive of Nature, the faint and
feeble perfpedive of Painting made no imprefhon
upon him, and the pidure appeared to him what
it really was, a plain furface bedaubed with dif-
ferent colours. When he' became more familiar
with the peifpedive of Nature, the inferiority of
that of Painting did not hinder him from difco-
Yering its refemblance to that of Nature. In the
perfpedive of Nature, he had always found that
the iituation and diflance of the tangible and re-
prefented objefls, correfponded exadlly to what
the vifible and reprefenting ones fuggeftcd to him.
Heexpededto find the fame thing in thefimllar,
though inferior perfpedive of Painting, and was
difappointed when he found that the viiible and
tangible objeAs had not, in this cafe, their ufual
correfpondence-

" In a year after feeing," adds Mr. Chefelden,
« the young gentleman being carried upon Ep-

OF THfi EXTERNAL SENSES. 317

•* fom-downs, and obferving a large profpe6l, he
" was exceedingly delighted with it^ and called it
" a new kind of feeing/' He had now, it is evi-
dent) coine to tinderftand completely the lan^^
guage of Vifioo* The vifible objedls which this
noble profpedi prefented to him did now appear
as touching) or as clofe upon his eye* They did
not. DOW appear of the fame ms^nitude with thofe*
fmall obje^s to which, for fome time after the
operation, he bad been accuftomed^ in the little
chamber where he was confined^ Thofc new vifi-
ble objefts at once, and as it were of their own
accord, afiumed^ both the diflance and the magni-
ttide of the gre^t tangible obj^^ls which they rc'^
prefented. He had now, therefore, it would
feem, become completely mailer of the languages
of Vifion, and he. bad become fo in the courfe of
a yea/ ; a much fhorter period than that in which
tmy perfon, arrived at the age of manhood, could
completely; acquire, any foreign language. It
would appear too» that he had made very conii-*
derable progrefs even in the two firft months. He
began at that early period to underftand even the
feeble perfpedlive of Painting ; and though at firft
he could not diftinguiib it from the flrong perfpec-
tive of Nature^ yet he pould not have been thus
impofed upon by fo imperfe£l an imitation, if the
great principles of Vifion had not beforehand been'
deeply imprefTed upon his mind, and if he had
not, either by the aflbciation of ideas, or by fome
other unknown principle, been ftrongly deter-
niined to ezpedl certain tangible obje&s in con«-

Y fequence

iit or tKE EXTERNAL SEM^S.

fequcnce of the vifible ones which hftdlbeen pTc-
fented to him. This rapid progrefs, however,
may, perhaps, be accounted for from that fit-
nefs of reprefcntation, which has already bceo
taken notice of, between vifible and tangible ob-
jeftsw In this language of Natnte, itmaybefaid,
the analogies arc mrore perfcft ; the etymologies,
the d^iclenfions, and conjugati<ms, if one may
fay fo, are more regular than thofe of any bumao
language. The rules are fewer, and thofe rales
admit of no exceptions^

But though it may have been alt<i^ether by the
flow paces of obfervation and experience that this
young gentleman acquired the knowledge of the
connexion between vifible and tangible chje&s ;
We cann6t fixmi thence with ^rtaiaty infer, that
young children have not fome infiin^ive pcrcep
tion of the fame kind. In him this inftindive
Jjower, not having been exerted «t the prober
feafen, may, fromdifufe, have gene gradually to
decay, andat laft have been completely obliterat-
ed. Or, perhaps, (what feemslikewifc very pof-
fible,) fome feeble and unobfer^d remains of it
may have fomewhat facilitated his acquifitioB of
what he might otherwife have found it much more
difficult to acquire^r

That^ aipitecedent ttf all ^tperience^ the youfif
of at leaft the greater part of aniffiab pofieTsfome
inftindive pertepticm of this kind, feems i^-
liently evident. The hen aeverietds her yomig

by

OF TliE EXTERNAL SJfcNSES. 3^9

Dy^rbpping the fobd into their billa, a^ the lin-
net and the thliilh jfeed theirs. Alni^ as foon
as her chickens are hatched, ihe does hot feed
them^ but carries th^ca to the field to feed^ where
tl»y. walk about at th$ir eafe> it.wovlldifeesD, and
appear to havls the moft diftind pc^cepdi^n of all
the ta^gil^e objedto which furround them*. We
may often fee tfaeni, accordingly^ by the (kaight-
^ road, run ;to add pick up any little grains
which Jbe iO^wd them^ ieven at. the diftance of
feveral yal-ds i and th^ no iboner cogqc into the
Jight than th^ feem to underftand this laagQ%ge
.trf Vifion as Well as they ever do afterwards; The
young Of the jpartridge and of the groufe feem td
have, at the fame early period, the moil diftinft
perceptions tif the fame kind. The young par-
tridge, lilmoftasfoon as it comes from the iheU»
xuns about ami^og the long grafs land cdrn ; the
young groufe imiong long heathy and would both
ineftflfentiaUy.hurt thaiiifelves if they had not
the moft acme, as well as diftin^l jperception of
^e tangible obJQ&a tlfirhich not only furrbund them
, but pj'eft uf>on them on aU.ildes. Hiis is the cafe
too with the ydung bf the gocrfe, Qf the diicki
and, fo fair as I have been able to obferve^ with
thofe of at lieaft thegteater part of the birds which
make thdr nefisiupon the ground^ wi&h the great-
er part of thofe which are ranked by Linnaeus in
the orders t>f the hen ind the goofe, and of many
of thofe long-ihanked and wading birds which he
places in the order that he diftinguUhes hj the
ngmeoCGrattiCi

t « The

Slo Of THE EXTERNAL StSSH.

The ybuiig of thoiTe birds that build their ocfti
in buihes, upon trees, in the holes and crevices
of high walls, upon high rocks and precipices,
and other places of difficult accefs ; of the greater
part of thofe ranked by Linndeus in the orders
of the hawk> the magpie, and the fparrow, feem
to come l^nd from the fliell, land to continue
fo for at leaft forae days thereafter. Till they
are able to fly they ate fed by the joint la-
bour of both parents. As foon as that period
arrives, however, and probably for fome time
before^ they evidently fenjoy all the powers of
Viiion in the moft complete perfedion, and can
diflinguifli with moft ezaA preciiion thefiiape
and proportion of the tangible objeds which
every vifibfe one re^refents. In fo fliort a
period they cannot be fuppof^ to have ao-
qaited thofe powers from experience, and muft
therefore derive them from fome infiindive fiig-
geftion. The fight of birds feems to be both
more prompt and more acute than that of any
other animals. Without hurting themfelves they
dart into the thickeft and moft thorny bnflies,
fly with the utmoft rapidity through the moft
intricate forefts, and while they are foariog
aloft in the air, difcover upon the ground the
little infers and grains upon which they feed.

The young of feveral forts of quadrupeds
feem, like thofe of the greater part of birds
which make theit nefts upon the ground, to
enjoy as foon as they come into the world

the

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSED i^i

the faculty of feeing as completely as they
ever do afterwards. The day, or the day af-
ter they ' are dropt, the calf foUofws the. cow,
and the fosl the mare, to the field ; and though
from timidity they feldom remove &r from
the mother, yet they feem ta walk about at
their eafe; which they could not da ujoMs
they could diftinguifli, with fome degBee ef
precifion, the (hape and proportion. of the tan-
gible ohje&B which each vifible one reprefents.
The degree of preciiion, however, with which
tlie bq^fe k capable of m^ki^g this difiinaion,
feems at no period of his life to be very com-
plete. He is at all times apt to fiartle at many
vifible objed«> whicli^ if they* difiin^ly fug*
gefted ta him the real ihape' »Ad proportion
ef the tangible obje^ which they reprefent,
could hot be the objeds of fear ; at the trunk
or root ef an eld tree, for example, which
happens to be laid by the road fide, at a
great fione^ or the fragment of a rock which
happens to lie near the way where he is going.
To reconcile him, even to a fingle objed of
this kind, which has once alarmed him, fre-
quently requires fome fkill, as well as much
patience and good temper, in the rider. Such
powers of fight, however, as Nature has thought
proper to render him capable of acquiring, he
feems to enjoy from the beginning, in as great
perfedion as he ever does afterwards.

The

%%t or THE EXTXtNAI 8EN8ISI

' The youngvpf other qi]adru)»ed8, like thofe
^ the birds which make their nefts in phcei
of di&cnlt Mcefs, comi blxnti into the WDiid.
Their fight, however, foon opesiS, aad as fooa
«8 it do^ £[>, they feein to eujoy it ia the mofl
complete perfefiion, as we may all obfcnre ii(
the puppy and the kitten. The fame thiDg> I
tielieve, may be faid of altoth^r beafts of prey,
at kail of all thofe concerning which I hav^ been
able to colled my diftind infotti^ation. They
come. blind into the. world ;. but ^ fpon ao^ their
%ht opens, they appear to.ex)jpyit in theiOQfll
complete perfedion.

, It fe^ms difficult .tq fu|ifpOfe that maa is the
only anifnal of which the y^cmng are n<H^^Q^
^owed with fome inftin&ive percepiioQ of this
kind. The young of the human fpec^s, bow-
ever, continue fo long in a .iUte of enure de*
^ndency^ they, mud be ii> long .carried <abQ8f;
in the arm« of their mothers or of their nurfes^
that fuch in inftindive perception may feem
Icfe necfflayy to them than tft ftny other .race
of animator , Before it could .be of ^ny ufe to
them, obfoifvaition and e:scperi?aee may, by tbe
known priiSkciple of the aSbcmion of ideas,
hafvc frffficiemly conne^d in their young miods
eath vifible object with the corrcfponding,.ian-
gible ofte: which it is fitted. to. reprefent Na-
ture, it may be faid, nevcx beftows upon, any
animal any faculty which is not either necef-
lary. or ufefuU and an inftind of this kind

would

>>

fvaald be ali^ether t^tef^^ to ^ri aniinal wjiic^
muft ^eocOfucily acquire t^e. Icraoiyledge whic)i
Uie ioftiad i; i[iyea tQ (np^Vy, long, before
that inftindi could be of aay ufe to it. ChiU
cUc^n, hiOweyei:, j^^pear at fo v^ry early a pe-
ariqd to kno]iK tl^ dift.^Ofce, fl^e ih^pf ,^ j^nd.^iag-
DUud? of,jthfc4jff§rc»$ tangiW^ obj^&a which
Are prfiipnt$4 P ^hem, that I ^^ difpofed to
beli$v<s tbat ^yeo. they may havp fome iDftiacr
tiy^ pcFcepaoa p£ this \dxA i though ppihbly
la a ffluqlj w«ak« <}egt« thm t^ greater, pajt
oC other aiuoiajist. A^^.c^i^ t})afe is icarcely a
month old, ftreich<&l out its bands to f^ aay
little play-thing that is prefented to it. It
^ing^iihe^ .iu wrijbi ajad > the other people
ifrbp are miicji ^ut if, frooi ilrangerst, U
dings to the. fofTqeif, and turns avi^ay from th^
latter. Hok}. a {mall lopking-glafs, before a
child. Gjf QOt BiQrc than two or th^ee months
old, and it vill flretch out its little, arms be-*
hind the gla(a, in order to £pel the child whicb
it fees, and whicb i( i(nagtnea is at the badf:
of the glaf«Y It \s deceived, nc^ (loubtf bu(
cv^n this fort of deceptiQq fufiiciently d^mon-
Urates tbat )t has a tolerably diilin^^ apprehen»
fion of the ordinary perfp^ive of Yifion, whic^
it cannot well b^ve learnt from qbferyation aAd
ezperienfe.

Do any of «ur other ftpnfes, antecedently tai
fach obfervation and experience, inftindively
fuggeft to us fom^ copceptioA of the foli^ and

refifiing

C24 OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

wfifting fubftancM which excite Ihfeir refpeftivc
-fcnfatians ; though thefe fenfations bear no foit
of refemblance to thofe fubftaoces?

The fenfe of Tafting certakilT' does Dot.
-Before we can feel the fenfations the folid and
Tefifting fubftance which exciteftt it muft be
prefled againft the organs of Tafte, and muA
confequently be perceived by them. Ante-
cedently to obfervation and experience, ^there-
fore, the f^nfe of Tafting ean never be faid
InfiinSively to fuggeft fome conceptions of that
fnb'ftance.

It may, perhaps, be otherwife wkh the fenfe
of Smelling. The young of all fackling anir
mals, (of the Mammalia of Linnaeus,) whether
they are born with fight or without it, yet
as foon as they come into thd world apply
to the nipple of the mother in order to fuck.
In doing this they are evidently dire&ed by
the Smdl. The Smell appears either to ex-
cite the appetite for the proper food, or at
leaft to direS the new-born animal to the place
where that food is to be found. It may perhaps
do both the one and the other.

That when the fiomach is empty, the Smell
of agreeable food excites and irritates the ap-
petite, is what we all mu^ have frequently ex-
perienced. But the ftomach of every new-bora
animal is necefiaiily empty. While in the

womb

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSES. 3«S

inromb it is nourifhed, not by the month, but
by the navel-ftring. Children have been bora
apparently in the moft perfeft health and vi»
gour, and have applied to fuck in the ufual
manner; but immediately, or foon after, have
thrown up the milk, and in the courfe of a
few hours have died vomiting and in convuU
iions. Upon opening their bodies it has been
found that the inteftinal tube or canal had
never been opened or pierced in the whole
extent of its length; but, like a fack, ad*
mitted of no paflage beyond a particular place.
It could not have been in any refpeft by the
mouth, therefore, but altogether by the navel-
firing, that fuch children had been nourifhed
and fed up to the degree of health and vi-
gour in which they were born. Every ani-
mal, whUe in the womb, feems to draw its
nouri(hment, more like a vegetable, from the
root, than like an animal from the mouth ;
and that nourilhment feems to be conveyed
to all the different parts of the body by tubes
and canals in many refpeAs different from thofe
which afterwards perform the fame funSion.
As foon as it comes into the world, this new
fet of tubes and canals, which the providen*-
tial care of Nature had for a long time be-
fore been gradually preparing, is all at once
and^inftantaneoufly opened* They are all emp-
ty, and they require to be filled. An un-
eafy fenfation accompanies the one fituation,
and an agreeable one the other. The fmell

of

iz6 OF THE EXTERNAL SENSSSt

of the Jubiftapce which is fitteci fo^ Sting, Uiem,
iucreafcs and irritatf^s that uneafy fcjafation, zjii
produces hunger, pr the appetite for food.

But all the appptitC9 which takp their ori*
gin from a certain ftatf of t^$ body, ftpcmtQ
fuggefi the jpeaus of tjieir own gratificftion;
and, even long bpfore e^iperienpe, ibnie aaticiw
pation or preconception of the pleafure whick
attends that gratification. , In |be {ippetitf for the
Sex, whiph frequently, I ^uq^ifpQfitd.tq l^liev^
j^qioft afway^, conies a long tipi* before the age
otf'puberty^ thi* is petfe6lly and di^inftly evh
dent. The appetite for food fuggeft^ td the new*
j^npL infant th^ ppcration of fucking, the only
ineans by which it can poflibJy gratify that appc»
tite« It is continually fuckiogt It fucl^a whate-
ver i^ prcfented to its mouUi. It fucks even
when there is nothing prefented to i^ fliQutK
and fome anticipation or precoixceptton of the
j^cafure which it ia to eujoy in fuckii^ feeaw
to make it delight ia putting it^ mouth into the
ihape and configuration by ^hich it alooe cao
pnjoy that pleafure. There are other appetites
in which the mod unexperienced, wagination
produces a fimilar effedl upon the oFgWS which
Kature has provided for th^ir gratificatipA\

The Smell pot only excites the appetite* but

dlreds to the obje& which tan alone gralify that

appetite. But by fuggefting the dire&ioa towards

that objedi, the Smell muft neCefianly fugg^

fome

99 THE ^XTEXKAX SENSBft si?

f&tiifi bb^i of dlftanc^K and extehialhy, which
arc neceflarily involved in thp idea pf direction ;
in the idea of the Hp^ pf motion by which the
fdiftance c^fx be beft^ oveircoiiie> and the mobth
brougfat^oto cont{t£t. with t\\e unknowa fubftaoe^
whiie& lis the objeA of ther ^jfrpedtc. That th6
Stnell flKmld alone &g^ft any • precdiilceptipn of
the fliapc 0r magnhndci 0f the external body to
wfaich^ it dii^^, fesrmt not .very probable* Tjbe
fen&tion of Smell feet&s to haVe na fort iof affinit j^
or eoi'refpoodeiice'Witkifaape pt ooagfaitiide j^: fttfd
whatever ppecoixsepciap th^ infant may h«ve of
thefe, (and it my very probaUyJkave £oioe fiieh
pi^doikeptioD,) ia iikBy to bt Siggtf!ted,..mt fo
^uch direaiy by the Sdidl, knd indiniAly hj
five appetite excited by that Sniell; a&by tbe.priip.r
^iple which teachea the 'child to mould its mouth
into theeonformatiomand adioitof fuckihng, eveii
t>efore it reaches the obj|e& to whith Uone that
c;<mfoni]atioa and aAion can foe u&fully iippli^d.

The Smell, however, as it fiiggefts the diredion
by which the external body muil be dpproachedji
mttft fuggeft at leaft fome vague idea or preconcep-j
tion of the exiftence of that body ; of the thing to
which it diipe^s, though not perhaps of the precife
fliape and magnitude of that thing. The infant,
too, feeling its mouth attra£l^d and drawn as it
were towarcjs that external body, mufl conceive
the Smell which thus draws and attra£ls it, as
fometMng belonging to or proceeding from that
body, or what is afterwards denominated and ob-

fcurely

328 OF THE EXTEKMAIi 8ENSE&

fcureiy underftood to be a< a fort of cpulity or
attribute of that body.

The Smell, too, may very probably fuggeft
fome evea tolerably diftinA perception of the
Tafte of the food to Drhich it diieds. The re-
fpedive objeda of out different external fenfes
feem, indeed, thegveatcr part of them, to bear
no fort of resemblance to one another. Ccdoor
bears no fon of refemblance to. Solidity, nor to
Heat^ nortoCold> nor tei Sound, nor to Smelly
nor to Tafte. To this fttu^cal rule, however,
there feems to be one, and perhaps but one ex-
ception. The feniations of Smell and Tafte feem
evidently to bear fome fort of refemblance to one
another* Smell appeam to have been given to ua
by Nature as the diredor of Tafte. It announces,
as it were, before trial, what is likely to be the
Tafte of the food which is fet before us^ Though
perceived by a different organ, it feem^ in many
cafes to be but a weaker fenfation nearly of the
fame kind with that of the Tafte which that an-
nounces. It is very natural to fuppofe, therefore,
that the Smell may fuggeft to the infant fcmie tole-
rably diftindi preconception of the Tafte of the
food which it announces, and may, even before
experience, make its mouth, asweiay> water for
that foodt

That numerous divifion of animals which Lip-
nsus ranks under the clafs oi worms ^ have, fcarce-
ly any of them^ any head. They neither fee nor
hear, have neither eyes nor ears ; but many of

I them

OF THE EXTERNAL SENSB0.t 319

them have the power of fclf-motion, and appear
to move about ia fearch of their food. They can
be dire&ed in this fearch by no other fenfe thaa
that of Smelling. The moft accurate microfcopi*
cal obfervations, however, have never been able
to difcover in fuch animaU any difiin£l organ of
SmelL They have a mouth and a ftomach, but
no noftrils. The organ of Tafte, it is probable,
has in them a fenfibility of the fame kind with
that which the olfadlory nerves have in more
perfeA animals* They may, as it were, tafte at a
difiance, and be attraAed to their food by an
a£Bedion of the fame organ by which they after-
wards enjoy it; and Smell and Tafte may in them
be no otherwife diftinguifhed than as weaker or
ftronger fenfations derived from the fame organ.

The fenfations of Heat and Cold, when excited
by the preflure of fome body either heated or cool-
ed beyond the a£lual temperature of our own or-
gans, cannot be faid, antecedently to obfervation
and experience, inftin&ively to fuggeft any con-
ception of the folid and refifting fubftance which
excites them. W hat was faid of the fenfe of Tafte
may very properly be faid here. Before we can
feel thofe fenfations, the preflure of the external
body which excites them muft necefiarily fuggeft,
not only fome conception, but the moft diftin&
conviAion of its own external and independent
exiftence.

It may be otherwife, perhaps, when thofe fenfa-
tions are either of them excited by the temper^*

ture

tatc oftheextetnA air. lii i calm <iay when tbtre
is no wind, we fcArecly perceive the citfefnal air
«8 a folid body; and the fesifationa of Heitand
Cold, it tiiay be tliought, arc then felt merely as
kfie&iond df otir own body, without any reference
to any thing external; Several cafes; however,
inay be conceived, iii which it muft be allowed, I
imagine, that thofc fenfationS,' even when^cited
in this manner, muft fuggeft fome vagtte jaoriofl of
fome external thing or fuSftancc which eicitcJ
them. A new-bom aniina}, which had the power
6f felf-motion, and which fek its body, eiikcr
ligreeably dr difagreeably,' more heated or inore
tooled on the one fide than on the other, ^ould,
t imagine, inftinftively, atfd antecedently to all
oWervation and expenence, endeavour to aaovc
towards the fide in which it feh the agreeable, and
to withdraw from that in which it felt the difa-
greeable feafation. But the very defire of motion
fuppofcs fome notion or preconception of externa-
lity ; and the defire to move towards the fide of
the agreeable, or from that of the difagretablc fcn«
lation, fuppofes at leaft fome vague notion -offoiBc
external thing or place which is the caufe of thofe
MfpeAive fenfations.

The degrees of Heat and Cold which ate aigr^
able, it has been found.from^xperienee, , are lik^
wife healthful ; . and thofe which are. difagreealide,
univholefome. The degree of their unwholdbme-
nefs, too, feems to be pretty much in proportion
-to that of their difagreeablendfs. If either^f them
is fo.difagreeable-as tO' be painful, his geBenltj

deftru^ivc;

of TK£ external senses^ 33«

•lefiru£tivc ; and that, too,, in a very Ihort period
of time. Thofc fenfation$ appear to have been
given us for the prefervation of pur Qwn bp^U^.
They necefjjirily excite the dffire of changing our
fitjuation when it is unwhotefome or deftruftive;
and when it is healthy, they allow us, or rather
they entice us, to remain in it. But the defire of
changing our fituation neceflarily fuppofes hifxc
idea of externality ; or of motion into a place dif-
ferent from that in which we adlually are ; and
even the defire of remaining in the fame place fup-
pofes fome idei of at leail the pofiibllity of change:
ing. Thofe fenfations could not well have an-
fwered the intention of Nature, had they not thus
inflin£lively fuggefted fome yagiie notion of ex-
ternal exiftence^

That Sound, the objeA of the fenfe of Hearing,
though perceived itfelf as in the ear, and powherc
but in the ear, may likewife, inftinftively, and an-
tecedently to all obfervation and experience, ob-
fcurely fugged fome vague notion of fome external
fubftance or thing which excites it, I am much dif-
pofed to believe. I acknowledge, however, that
I have not been able to recolleil any one inftance
in which this fenfe feems fo diftindly to produce
thisieffe^, as that of Seeing, that of Smelling, and
even that of Heat and Cold, appear to do in fome
particular cafes. Unufual and uuexp$6led Sound
alarms always, and difpofes us to look about fot
fome external fubilance or thing as the caufe which
excites it, or from which it proceeds. Sound,
however, confidered merely as a fenfation, or as

an

3ii Oi^ THE EXTERNAL SENSES.

an afTedlion of the organ of Hearing, can iii thoft
cafes neither benefit nor hurt us. It may be agree-
able or difagreeable, but in its own nature it does
not feem to announce any thing beyond the im-
mediate feeling. It Ihould not therefore excite
any alarm. Alarm is always the fear of fome un-
certain evil beyond what is immediately fe]t, and
from fome unknown and external caufe. But all
animals, and men among the reft, feel fome degree
of this alarm, ftart, are roufed and rendered cir-
cumfpefl and attentive by unufual and unexpeded
Sound. This effefi, too, is produced fo readilf
ind fo inftantaneoufly that it bears every mark o(
an inftindive fuggeftion of an impreifion immedi-
ately ftruck by the hand of Nature, which does not
wait for any recolleSion of paft obfervatiou and
experience. The hai^e, and all thofe other timid
animals to whom flight is the only defence, are
fuppofed to polTefs the fenfe of Hearing in the
highcft degree of aftivenefs. It feems to be the
fenfe in which cowards are very likely to excel.

The three fenfes of Seeing, Hearing, and Smel-
ling, feem to be given to us by Nature, not fo much
in order to inform us concerning the adual ikoa-
tionof our bodies, as concerning that of thofe other
external bodies, which, though at fome diftance
from us, may fooner or later affed that adual fitu-
ation, and eventually either benefit or hurt us.

THE E N D-